


Paying the Price

by Redamber79



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blood As Lube, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Come as Lube, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Gaslighting, Gay Sex, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Painplay, Minor Character Death, Name-Calling, No Refractory Period, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rape with inanimate object, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. (Supernatural), Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Violence, Spit As Lube, Stalking, Switching, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Vandalism, Verbal Humiliation, rape while unconscious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-14 10:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 44,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redamber79/pseuds/Redamber79
Summary: What Dean feels for his assistant goes beyond mere affection or basic lust, something draws him to the capable, quietly sarcastic man that he spends each day pining over. When they finally end up together, their passion grips tighter, and darker, than Dean expected.As life at work gets more complicated with a stalker following his every move, what will happen when Cas reveals his darkest urge, and will Dean run, or leap into his lover's arms?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dark fic bang submission. Hold onto your seat.
> 
> A/N:
> 
> To Malmuses, scribbles, and SOBS, without whom the bang couldn't have happened. 💖
> 
> To my amazing artist, sissyray84, who went above and beyond, and created art that blows my mind every time I look at it.
> 
> To my betas: Marly, and fpwoper. This story wouldn't be what it is without you.
> 
> And to my loves, Cassie, Mal, and kitty. For keeping me as close to sane as I'm likely to get. 
> 
> Dear readers. Read the tags. I'm sorry. And enjoy. I know I did.

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean smiled warmly up at his assistant for a long moment, then forced himself to look away, missing the hungry, burning glance the man sent him. 

“No trouble at all, Mister Winchester,” he replied in his husky voice, and Dean was glad the heavy wooden desk was between them, as his slacks did nothing to hide the effect Cas' voice and presence had on him, even after four months of working with the man.

_ I should be fired for drooling over my assistant. It's harassment and a bad idea and--oh sweet baby Jesus!  _ Dean's self-recrimination was cut short as he glanced back to see his assistant bent at the waist to collect a sticky note he'd dropped on the way in. Thick, muscular thighs led to an absolutely delectable ass, and Dean found himself swallowing harshly.

“Sir?”

Cas' low voice called him back and Dean found himself flushing, his ears burning at the wide-eyed, surprised expression that quickly vanished from his assistant’s face. Another expression flashed across Cas’ face, there and gone again before Dean could decipher it, then Cas was excusing himself, all but running for the door. 

A moment later, only his scent remained in the office, a light blend of lavender and pine. Dean inhaled deeply, then groaned, dropping his head onto his arms. 

This was bad. He needed to get the lust for his only direct subordinate out of his system. There was no way the company would let an affair slide, much less a relationship. Much as he…

_ Wait…  _ He reined in his wayward thoughts.  _ A relationship? Dinner, movies? Dates, waking up next to him … maybe more? Oh fuck, I've got it bad. I don't even know if he's into men, much less likes me! _

He scrubbed his hands over his face and did the only thing he could do. He texted Sammy.

Batman:  _ hey, you free for the Roadhouse tonight? _

Bitch:  _ Barring a 911, sure, 8? What's up? _

Batman:  _ Ethics. Tell you later, nothing illegal. _

Bitch:  _ That's good, since I'd have to arrest your dumb ass. _

Batman:  _ As if. Bitch. _

Bitch:  _ Jerk. _

Dean smiled at his phone and slid it into his pocket, returning to his work. The general manager was making the rounds of local offices the following week and he definitely didn't want to piss off Adler. The man was a sour, smarmy sonofabitch who wouldn't hesitate to bring the hammer down on Dean if he found anything out of line. Working for Sandover Bridge & Iron was lucrative, especially with his background, but there were days Dean hated it. He supposed that was true of any job. It paid the hell outta the bills, though.

He glanced through his open office door and spotted Cas hard at work at his desk, his profile offered up like a gift. Dean stared a moment until he saw Cas turn away towards the bank of windows facing the hall, and heard his low voice offered in greeting. An unpleasant, nasal voice responded and Dean went back to his work with an unconscious frown on his face. Alastair worked in the mailroom, delivering packages throughout the building. He was sure the man was harmless but something about Alastair rubbed Dean the wrong way, and he tried to avoid him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door frame and Cas came in with the mail that needed Dean's attention, rather than being handled by himself. Dean smiled up at him and murmured a thank you. Even as he scanned the first envelope, he tilted his head towards Cas.

“Hey, Cas, think I could talk you into making a run to that bakery down the block? I'm working ’til 7:30 or so and need a coffee and a sugar rush before then.”

Cas gave him a quiet smile, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “Can do, Mister Winchester, since you're being so virtuous as to leave before the guard makes the rounds at ten. Pecan pie?”

“Yes, please. Now, how many times do I need to ask you to call me Dean? And which guard was gossiping about me this time?” he asked, knowing he'd encountered at least three at that hour within the last two weeks.

“That would be telling.  _ Sir _ .” Cas smile was full of mischief, daring Dean to call him out, and Dean felt a tingling warmth in his belly at the game.

“Yeah, I guess it would. Tell you what, it's Friday. Once you get me that coffee and pie, finish up and get outta here. No need for both of us to be victims of Adler's arrival next week. Not until he gets here, then everybody's on the hook.”

“I've heard stories,” Cas murmured as he idly tidied a corner of Dean's desk, almost fidgeting with the paperwork. “Is he as bad as they say?”

Dean eyed the outside office and, seeing it was empty, spoke quietly. “He's a self-righteous, hypocritical, bigoted prick. But he gets results, so the company mostly looks the other way. I got the higher ups to hammer down on him about his anti-queer comments, though, once they realized I was willing to walk and take my clients with me to another firm, anyway. Funny how equality only matters to the brass when it might cost ‘em money, but that's life. Wait, that's not fair… I just don't think they'd had it shoved in their faces until I took it up the chain. They came down hard on him though, and now he hates me.”

Cas was staring at him, his cheeks pink, and Dean wondered what was wrong. He thought back through his rant and felt himself blushing again. Not generally how he thought about coming out to people, but there it was. At least now it was out in the open.  _ I haven't even told Sammy I'm bi, but I just told my sexy assistant I'm queer. Fuck. _

“I… I see.” Dean watched as Cas swallowed nervously, and cursed himself inwardly, certain he'd made the man uncomfortable. Cas didn't seem the type to be homophobic but it took all kinds. Clearing his throat, Dean dropped his gaze back to his work as Cas straightened. “I'll… um… I'll go get you that coffee and pie. And I'll stick around until five, I've got enough work I'd rather not have piled on me Monday morning.”

“You don't have to do--” Dean started, then Cas gave him a small half-smile and he forgot what he was saying.

“I know. But if this guy Adler is as bad a hardass as you're saying, the last thing I want is to give him a reason to look in my direction. You've got seniority to protect you, sir. I'm just a lowly assistant.”

Dean's hand slammed down on his desk, making the dark-haired man before him jump, and Dean stood, leaning over the desk.

“I don't want to hear that kind of crap again, Cas. I couldn't function without your help, couldn't do my job without you keeping me in line. You're not a lowly anything. I need you.”

Realizing he may have been a bit too vehement in his delivery, Dean stepped back and turned to the window, taking a deep breath. When he spoke again, it was softly.

“You're not just some grunt employee, Cas. You matter. And I think I haven't told you enough how much I appreciate you if you can call yourself that.”

He kept his back to the rest of the office as he heard the quiet tread moving away, fighting back a sigh as the other man closed the door with a soft click.

“Damnit.”

He returned to the mail, finding a small envelope with only his name. Opening it, he found a note card with carefully printed block letters.

**DEAN,**

**I CAN'T STOP THINKING **

**ABOUT YOU. YOU'LL BE**

**MINE SOON.**

**YOUR SECRET ADMIRER**

“What the hell?”

***

Thirty minutes later, Dean left his office for a meeting, just as Cas was returning from the coffee run. He took the coffee quickly and jerked his chin toward his office, indicating Cas should leave the small pastry box on his desk. 

An hour later he returned, worn out and frustrated by the office politics. Cas sat at his desk, typing away and holding out a small notepad as he passed. Missed calls. Wonderful.

“Cas, I didn't mean to freak you out before. I'm sorry,” Dean began, but Cas held up a hand to stop him.

“You gave me a lot to think about is all, sir. No harm done. I do have a question though. What is the company policy on visible tattoos?”

Dean felt his mouth drop open at the non sequitur, and he stammered for a moment. “I don't believe there is one, though more conservative management might frown upon them.”

“But not you?” Cas asked, giving him a questioning look, his head tilted to one side. Dean couldn't help but compare the look to that of a curious kitten, particularly since Cas’ thick hair had been disheveled enough to nearly form small ears. He shook his head with a smile and answered.

“Doesn't bother me any. You thinking of getting some ink?” he asked, sitting on the corner of Cas’ desk.

Cas glanced down at the floor, deliberately rolling up one sleeve, then the other. Dean was so distracted by the strong, graceful hands slowly revealing unfairly muscular forearms that he didn't notice the tattoo at first. Cas' hand moved and there it was, a tattoo curving around the forearm, one colour of the rainbow bleeding into the next, spelling out  _ PRIDE _ .

“Sounds like it's in my best interest to keep the sleeves rolled down when the head honcho is here, but it does get hot in here,” Cas murmured in his husky voice. He looked up at Dean and there was something in his gaze, something…

Dean's phone rang and he jumped, swearing. He gave Cas a quick smile and dashed through his office door to his desk. “Sandover Bridge & Iron, Dean Winchester speaking.”

He spent the next few hours fielding calls and sorting through his inbox, which never seemed to drop below two hundred items desperately needing his attention. He delegated to Cas whatever he could, then waved the man off at 5:30, scolding him to go enjoy his weekend. 

By 6:30, Dean was worn to the bone and scooped up the small pastry box, popping it open with a contented sigh. He inhaled the pie greedily, promising himself he'd use his elliptical the next day to burn off the calories, especially knowing he'd be drinking that night with his moose of a brother.

He reached for the napkins sitting under the box and had one halfway to his lips when he realized it had writing on it. 

_ Call me, Meg  _ was scrawled neatly across it, with a phone number below. Dean froze, debating what to do. With an unhappy sigh, he tucked the napkin into his own drawer, resolving to give it to Cas Monday. He didn't want to leave it on his desk and have the cleaning company throw it out. Whether Cas was bi rather than gay, he didn't know, but it wasn't up to Dean to police his dating.

Damnit! 

He stood suddenly and slammed his keyboard drawer shut. Quickly unplugging his phone he shoved it into his pocket, tossed his messenger bag over his shoulder, and bent to lock his desk. He strode from his office, locking the door behind him, and made for the elevator. As he waited he tapped his foot, full of nervous energy that made the pie sit in his stomach unpleasantly. The doors opened and he stepped in, humming Metallica softly under his breath as he descended. On the second floor, the doors opened again and Alastair stepped on, and Dean gave him a tight smile before glancing away.

“Evening, all done for the weekend then?” the man asked, his pinched voice jarring to Dean's ears, but he smiled politely and nodded. 

“All work and no play make Jack a dull boy,” he replied and was surprised to hear a grating chuckle from the man. The elevator came to a stop and Dean stepped out, nodding to the other man as he strode quickly for the exit. “You have a good weekend then.”

“You too, Dean.”

Dean reached his precious Impala and slid behind the wheel, and wondered why it bothered him that the mailroom guy used his first name. He wasn't a snob, he didn't think the man was beneath him or anything. He sighed then and dropped his head onto the steering wheel. Because Cas refused to use it. Crap.

He headed for home and swore to keep Cas out of his thoughts for at least an hour. He'd told Sam he would talk about what was bothering him, but for the next hour he could zone out. That lasted until he ducked into the shower, and soon he was crying out his release as he imagined his assistant on his knees before him.

“Fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sat at the bar, picking at the label of his beer as he waited for Sammy, the condensation slicking his hand while he fidgeted.  _ The Roadhouse looked like a dive from the outside, but when you stepped through the doors, you realized that was completely true. _ Dean snorted at his own thoughts, and set his empty bottle aside, waving to Ellen for another. Ellen, along with her daughter Jo, ran the Roadhouse, a local spot with drinkable beer and an amazing burger, and she kept things under pretty tight control. It was a rough crowd tonight, typical for a Friday, and Dean was glad he'd gotten changed from his suit into jeans and a Henley. He blended in fairly well with the truckers and bikers, the mechanics and farmers from the surrounding area. 

Ellen delivered another beer for him with a smile just as Dean felt a giant hand land on his shoulder. He slid the second beer to the stool beside him. Sam sat eyeing the two empty bottles already before Dean and he just shook his head. 

“I walked over, and I'll Uber home. Don't start.”

“What's the ethics question then, Dean? You said you had a problem, what is it?”

Dean picked at his label some more, the noise of the bar generally covering his words outside a few feet. A raucous shout came from the crowd surrounding the pool table and he shrugged, figuring it was as good as it was gonna get. He glanced around, making sure he didn't recognise anyone and started speaking.

“It's work. You know I have a fairly new assistant, been with us about four months, right?” Sam nodded and Dean took another pull of his beer. “Thing is, Cas is great. Wickedly smart, funny, great at the job… smells amazing, and gorgeous. And I mean sinfully,  _ painfully _ gorgeous. Deep blue eyes, dark hair, these pink lips, and an ass I just wanna--”

“Easy, cowboy. If you're not careful, you're heading for a sexual harassment suit,” Sam warned, tilting back his beer. Always a cop.

“I know, damnit!” Dean retorted loudly, then lowered his voice again. “But Cas is something special, and I swear we have this… this connection. When our eyes meet it's like fireworks, man. And it's not like I have other employees who could claim favouritism.”

“No, but the trouble with dating a subordinate is the threat of coercion. Date me or you lose the job.” Sam was far too logical, and Dean glared at his brother for a moment. 

“I would never, and Cas knows that!” Dean retorted.

“How, because you said so? You wouldn't exactly be unbiased. Dean, I'm sorry, but you gotta let this one go, unless you wanna find a new assistant.”

Dean dropped his head to the bar, bouncing his forehead off the dark wood a few times. He lifted his head and took another drink, then turned sorrowful eyes to his brother. “Sammy, I think I'm falling in love.” 

Sam stared at him for a moment, a soft, sympathetic look on his face, then he shrugged one broad shoulder as he brushed his hair back from his face. “Then you may need to relocate her to another partner, so she doesn't report to you.  _ Then _ you can ask her out. But I don't need any more details about her ass, thanks.”

Dean started, staring at Sam, then turned back to order another round as Ellen came by. “Yeah… yeah, I do want to ask...her out.” Dean swallowed the lump in his throat at the lie but he wasn't ready to come out to Sam, certainly not in a crowded bar of rough customers. Ellen ran a tight ship but bar fights still happened, and Dean knew from experience that people often took his pretty face as an invitation to beat the shit out of him. The last thing he needed was to out himself when he was already feeling down. Besides, if he ever gathered the courage to ask him out, if Cas turned him down, there'd be no reason to come out just yet. Other guys didn't hold any appeal for him.

He took a deep breath, and a familiar scent had his head whipping around. “I, uhh… I gotta take a leak. Watch my beer.”

Dean moved through the crowded restaurant and ducked down the hallway towards the washrooms. He stopped to look around back through the crowd and saw a familiar head of dark sex-hair darting out the main door.

“Fuck!” he swore. If Cas had been close enough for Dean to smell his cologne or whatever it was, then Cas probably heard him talking about asking out a woman. “Jesus fucking Christ  _ sonofabitch!” _

He punched a wall for good measure, bruising his knuckles and earning him a sharp look from Jo as she rounded the corner. 

“The hell you doin’, Dean?” she demanded, and he winced, then pulled her further down the hall. 

“I fucked up. Look, can you tell Sammy I wasn't feeling well? Honest, it's kinda the truth. I'm just gonna head on home.”

“Dean, you alright, son?” Ellen asked from behind him. He turned to the woman who had raised him after his mother died and allowed her to pull him into a hug.

“Hey, Ma,” he murmured against her greying brown hair. “No. I'm not. Look, I just wanna go home though. I'll call you later, I promise.” Dean pulled back and laid a kiss on her forehead, then smacked Jo’s shoulder on his way out the back, past the restrooms and Ellen's small office. He let the heavy, steel door close behind him and leaned against the bricks for a moment. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he told himself the stinging was caused by the smoke from the group crowded nearby. He pushed off from the wall and strode past in the wrong direction to go home, but he knew Sammy would be after him in a hot minute once Jo told him Dean had left. Turning off his phone, he crossed the street ahead of an older, gold Lincoln Continental to duck into a convenience store. He got a cheap coffee from the machine at the back and loitered over the magazines for a few minutes before looping a block over and walking home. 

Dean was shivering by the time he got home, and it was only a few minutes before he was deciding on a second shower to warm himself up. After standing under the hot spray until the water started to chill, he stepped out and towelled himself off numbly. He wandered into his bedroom and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, then grabbed his phone. Powering it up, he ignored the multiple texts from Sam and sent a single one in return. 

Batman:  _ home safe, just feeling like shit. Going to bed. Ttyl. _

He fired a second text to Ellen, letting her know he was home and turned off his phone again even as it pinged with an incoming message.

Dean crawled under the blankets and wondered how he was going to straighten this out. His mind spun until he was exhausted and all he could think was that he would have to talk to Cas on Monday. It occurred to him, somewhat painfully, that he might lose his assistant either way. If Dean asked him out and he said yes, he'd have to transfer him to another partner. If he said no, Cas might not be comfortable continuing to work for him. 

“Fuck.”

***

Cas stumbled out of the bar and got into his car. He'd call Anna later and apologize for bailing, but he wasn't in the mood to party anymore. He'd thought maybe, maybe he had a chance with Dean, despite the man being his boss. He hadn't imagined the flirting, he hadn't! Or the way Dean's eyes heated when he looked at him. He was certain that it was just a matter of time before Dean was his.

But just then in the bar, as he waited for the bartender to get to him, a lull in the noise had allowed him to hear a conversation two stools down, and he'd heard a devastatingly familiar voice talk about asking out a woman. Apparently, Dean was bi, not gay.  _ Lucky him, he could be in a relationship and pass. _

Not that Cas was bitter or anything. 

_ That's not fair. If he's bi, he's bi. But why is he asking someone else out  _ ** _now_ ** _ ? I was so sure...  _ He drew a deep breath to calm himself, and pulled out his phone, texting his cousin quickly that he wasn't going to be there tonight. He dropped his phone into the cup holder and ignored it when it pinged a minute later, just resting his head on the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath to calm his frustration, he started the car and headed home. 

Halfway down the block, he saw a familiar form crossing the street, and slowed to let him cross, then sped off without a backward glance. It really was unfair how good Dean looked in tight jeans and a deep red Henley. 

“Fuck.”

Cas let himself into his small apartment ten minutes later and only just avoided slamming the door. He poured himself a bourbon and dropped onto the couch, staring morosely at the blank TV for a few minutes. Finally, he turned it on and surfed through channels until he found a Dr. Sexy marathon.  _ Mindless drivel, just what I need. _

After watching the third make-out session in one episode, Cas growled and switched to a baseball game. Watching Dr. Sexy pin a nurse to the wall in a maintenance closet was simply reminding him of all the things he wanted to do to Dean, starting with those plush, pouting lips and nowhere near ending with pounding that tight ass. The baseball game was perfect, until the Kiss-Cam targeted a happy gay couple. He turned off the TV and chucked the remote onto the couch, downing the rest of his bourbon in one go. Pouring himself another, he took it to his room and fell over face-first on his bed, though it was only 10:30pm. He lay there for a few minutes, wondering how he'd been so wrong, then rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He reached for his drink, wincing at the burn as he swallowed it down, before falling back against his pillows, his thoughts spiralling in a maelstrom of self-pity, rejection and a bit of anger. He thought… it didn't matter what he thought. Clearly, he'd been wrong. 

Cas pulled his pillow over his head and willed himself to sleep, only to stir restlessly as amorphous dreams haunted him all night; dreams of searching for something he'd misplaced, even as his name was called through a fog, telling him to leave it behind. He woke exhausted, his head pounding and eyes gritty, which worsened his already foul mood.

Saturday passed in a slow blur, every hour lasting forever, but by the time 5 pm rolled around, he couldn't have said what he’d done all day.

Eventually, his stomach let him know he'd neglected it long enough and Cas ordered shrimp lo mein from a local place that delivered, wordlessly handing the driver a tip when she arrived. He dropped in front of the TV again and ate his way through his dinner, barely tasting his food. By 8 pm he wandered to bed and texted Anna to cancel brunch for the next day, not in the mood for his cousin's snark. Setting his phone to silent, he fell into bed.

***

The early hours of the morning found Cas shivering and burning by turns, the cold tile of his bathroom floor a blessing one moment and a curse the next. He weakly pulled a towel down to wrap around himself, too unsteady on his feet to get up, and not willing to leave the vicinity of his new deity, the porcelain god. He felt his stomach rebelling against him once again, and hunched over the toilet, weakly coughing and gasping as bile burned his throat. The lo mein which was responsible for his state was long since purged from his system, but the effects stayed with him, wreaking havoc on his body.

Awareness faded in and out for hours until amidst a fever-dream of Dean, he felt a cool hand on his forehead. “Dean?” he croaked, his voice a harsh, rasping mockery of his usual deep voice. 

“Cassie, holy shit, why didn't you call me?” came a concerned voice, familiar and loved in its way, though frequently a source of frustration as well. In his delirium, he blinked up at the red-haired woman bent over him until his eyes finally focused on his cousin.

“Where'd he go?” he mumbled, feeling confused and abandoned. He watched his cousin's face crease in concern, and she bent to grab his arm rather than answering.

“We're taking you to urgent care,” she announced, hauling him carefully to his feet. Cas' stomach rebelled at the motion and he hunched over the toilet again, but she held him upright, then wiped a cloth over his face and handed him a glass of water to rinse his mouth. 

His cousin carefully helped him get dressed and got him down to her car, admonishing him not to throw up on the leather upholstery. Cas found the energy to roll his eyes at her, and while he was vaguely coherent, sent an email to Dean marked urgent, letting him know he wouldn't be in the next two days and could Dean please apply his sick days.

His fever spiked as they drove, and he found himself shivering in the car despite the heater blowing on him. 

The last thing he remembered was his cousin cajoling him out of the car, then the pavement rushing up to meet him.

***

Dean spent a miserable weekend avoiding his brother's calls, replying by text that his dinner Friday hadn't sat well suddenly, which was why he'd left. Sam demanded to know why he hadn't asked him for a ride home and Dean stared at his phone for a while, then changed the subject to Sam's ongoing murder investigation. It distracted him for the moment, but Dean knew he'd have to explain eventually. He simply hoped that by then he'd have an answer about how Cas felt about him.

He stopped by the bakery on his way to work Monday and bought his usual, as well as coffee and a honey cruller for Cas. Cas was addicted to anything with honey, and adored bees as well, which Dean found ridiculously endearing.

He rode the elevator up with his gut roiling and closed his eyes to take a deep breath as the doors opened, bracing himself to face the object of his affections. Instead, he found Alastair dropping a pile of mail on Cas’ desk, his assistant nowhere in sight.

Swallowing a lump of anxiety, Dean strode through the doorway, nodding a greeting to Alastair as he placed the coffees on Cas' desk long enough to unlock his own office. He scooped them up again and brought them to his desk, then sat and booted up his computer. His inbox was overflowing with new emails, and his phone was flashing with messages from co-workers and clients alike.

He worked frantically for the first two hours, glancing up every time motion passed the outer glass wall separating his office from the others on the floor, but Cas never showed. At around eleven he made his way far enough through his emails to discover an urgent message from Cas, sent the afternoon before.

_ Mr Winchester, _

_ Wont be in monday orr tusedat. Pleade use my sikc days. _

_ Castiel _

Dean stared at the email and quickly marked the two days into the database for Cas.

“The hell?”  _ Was he drunk, or just not care about his spelling because he wasn't at work? _ he wondered. “Is… is he avoiding  _ me?” _ Dean glanced out the door to Cas’ empty desk and spotted the pile of mail.

“Fuck!”

***

The next day was a nightmarish repeat of the first, though at least Dean dealt with the first pile of mail immediately, rather than waiting futilely on Cas to arrive. Cas had only been his assistant for four months, but he'd already made himself indispensable. Dean was overwrought, his normally calm demeanour thoroughly agitated and irritable.

By Tuesday night he was ready to call Cas at home and beg his forgiveness, to tell him it was a misunderstanding, he'd never flirt with him inappropriately again, if only he'd please return to work. At half-past seven, he got an email notification from his absent assistant.

_ Good evening Mr. Winchester, _

_ I hope you aren't still at work, though knowing Friday's schedule it wouldn't surprise me if you were. Just letting you know I'm feeling much more myself and will be returning to work tomorrow, despite Anna’s wishes.  _

_ See you in the morning, _

_ Cas _

“Anna? Who the fuck is Anna?” Dean muttered. He thought back, and felt the blood turn to ice in his veins, for suddenly he remembered several mentions of this Anna, of laughter and rolled eyes at texts, of Sunday brunches. Dean tried to remember more but his mind was blank. Glancing at Cas’ desk, he saw the small potted plant he'd bought during his lunch hour. Quickly scrawling a  _ get well! _ note on a post-it, he dashed to the outer office. Glancing about, he slapped the note onto the plant, reclaiming the small envelope with its far more personal message, and moved back to his office, then tossed the envelope into his desk to deal with later. 

_ Wait… _ Dean was suddenly struck by an errant thought.  _ If he has a girlfriend, maybe didn't run out of the club because he heard me talking about a woman, maybe he  _ ** _knows_ ** _ I've been flirting, and didn't want me to intrude on his date with Anna and so they left! Just because I didn't see him leave with anyone, doesn't mean he wasn't on a date. _

Dropping his head into his hands, Dean resolved to cut out any hint of flirting. Clearly, his attentions were unwelcome. Dean sighed, feeling his heart crack, and gulped back a lump in his throat.  _ Maybe it's just as well, _ he decided.  _ Obviously, I can't do my job without him as my assistant. _ He sighed, then scrubbed his hands over his face and returned to his emails.

At ten he was startled by a knock on his door frame and whipped his head up to see one of their security guards, Benny, watching him with a mix of concern and amusement. 

“Hey, chief. Time to shut it down, get some rest. It'll all be there tomorrow, cher.” Benny’s rich Louisiana accent rolled over him soothingly, and Dean sighed.

“Don't I know it, Benny. Alright, I'll head out.”

That night Dean dreamt of Cas walking away from him, an indistinct, shadowy figure embracing him as he ignored Dean's pleas.


	3. Chapter 3

Cas woke Wednesday morning with his eyes sandy and a bit lightheaded, but thanks to Anna he'd been treated and kept his food and water down for the last day and a half. He stumbled into the bathroom, weak-kneed, and glanced in the mirror. Running a hand over his jaw, he decided to leave the several days worth of beard, as it grew quickly enough to look deliberate rather than scruffy happenstance. Taking a hot shower did much to restore him, and a light breakfast did the rest.

Getting dressed he found a problem. He'd lost a couple kilos, enough that his slacks wanted to slide down his waist. Digging through his closet, he found a gag gift from Anna and smirked. He pulled on a deep blue dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves over his forearms, then clipped on the suspenders. He took a look in the mirror and after declaring his hair a loss for tidiness, deliberately mussed it up and styled it with mousse. 

He paused as he smirked in the mirror, wondering why he was making such efforts with his appearance. Dean was interested in someone else, so Cas supposed he would have to hunt elsewhere for someone. He straightened and popped the top two buttons of his shirt.

_ Your loss, Winchester. _

***

Cas rode his superior mood all the way to work and up the elevator. The doors opened and there was his desk, with its usual pile of mail, and… a potted plant? As he neared, he saw it was an African violet, its delicate blooms a deep purple, and he smiled to see the small Post-it, with the words “get well!” in Dean's familiar hand.

Cas bent to inhale the delicate fragrance with a sigh, only to hear a quiet  _ “shit!” _ and then louder  _ “ow, fuck!” _ He whirled, startled, and found Dean staring down at himself, coffee splattered across his white dress shirt, down his arm, and dripping to the floor as he absently shook his burnt fingers then shoved them into his mouth. Dean glanced up and met Cas’ gaze, and he froze, two fingers in his mouth, his coffee clutched in his other hand, and a furious blush climbing his cheeks.

_ Damn he's irresistible when he's flustered, _ Cas thought to himself with a small, private smile. Then he shook his head and stepped forward to relieve his boss of his coffee. “Still have a spare shirt in your office, sir?”

“I, um…” Dean's gaze flicked over Cas quickly before they snapped back to Cas’ eyes and then away, his blush deepening. “Yeah. I'm just gonna go get changed.” Dean dodged through the door to his office, closing it firmly, but not before Cas heard a muttered  _ “sonofabitch!” _ as it clicked shut. 

Cas glanced down at himself and smirked slyly.  _ And the hunt is afoot.  _

***

A few hours later, Cas had ploughed through the backlogged work from his two days off and Dean practically whimpered in relief to have things back on track. 

Dean went out at lunch and returned with a coffee and a honey cruller for Cas, who accepted them with a somewhat strained smile. “I appreciate it, sir, but I'm not sure I should…” Dean's face fell and Cas felt an odd pang of guilt at his refusal. “I just haven't had much in the way of solids after the food poisoning on Saturday night, and haven't started back on coffee yet. It's not that I don't appreciate them, really…”

“Food poisoning? Oh shit! You sure you're okay now?” Dean asked, his voice full of concern.

Cas smiled widely, because it wasn't often a boss actually cared about an employee and not just about how they'd been inconvenienced. He glanced at his email and quickly started a reply for one of their problem clients. “I'm alright, really. Though if Anna hadn't gotten worried about me missing brunch and shown up… well, she got me to urgent care and they got me the meds I needed.” There was a heavy silence and he glanced up to see Dean's face locked in an impassive mask.

“I'm glad you've got her then,” Dean told him and headed to his office without another word. When Dean closed his door quietly, Cas allowed himself a small frown.

“Now what the hell was that?” 

***

Friday arrived far too quickly for Dean's peace of mind, as he told Cas, and Zachariah Adler along with it. Adler was inches taller than Dean and he used that height to loom over everyone he could. Cas could tell Dean tried to ignore the tactic, but as he frequently found himself in the man's company as he toured the office, it wasn't always easy. 

The only saving grace was Cas himself. After hearing Dean’s story of his issues with the man, Cas set out to be as annoying as possible, in an unassailable way. He’d not only shown up in a close-fitting blue button down accentuating his eyes with his sleeves rolled up to expose his tattoo, he also wore a corset-style vest that displayed his broad shoulders and trim waist. He carried a rainbow coffee mug, and had inserted a rainbow flag into his pen holder. And the final touches, during every conversation with Dean and Adler that day he affected a lisp, and his walk had taken on a distinct sway.

By the time Adler left at 7 pm, the manager was nearly frothing at the mouth with anger, his face mottled at having to bite his tongue. Cas was unfailingly polite, giving him no legitimate reason to complain, and Adler knew that Dean wouldn't allow a single remark to pass, even by his superior.

As Dean returned from walking Adler to the elevator, he waved Cas into his office and shut the door. The second it was closed Dean burst out laughing, his hand on Cas' back as he led him to the desk. “Cas, that was an absolute pleasure to watch, I could just kiss you!” Dean froze as Cas turned to him in surprise, staring up into his eyes from a scant foot away.

Dean stumbled back half a step. “I'm so sorry, that was completely inappropriate. Please, I just meant that it was great watching Adler be put in his place. And I know you have a girlfriend, I certainly don't want to make you uncomfortable or--” Dean kept babbling until Cas cut him off.

“I don't have a girlfriend, sir,” Cas told him, confused, and not certain this was the time to make a move. “Besides, I know you don’t want me. I'm just your assistant, and I know there's a woman you want to ask out, if you haven't already.” Cas looked away from Dean's pained expression, staring instead out the window over the cityscape.

“You're not just my assistant. You're my friend, I hope. But we seem to have some wires crossed here. What about Anna, isn't that your girlfriend?” Dean asked, and Cas nearly choked and whipped around to look at Dean again, closing the space between them carefully, treating Dean as a timid animal as he stepped closer.

“Oh, hell no. Anna is my cousin. What about you? I know there's someone you want to ask out. I… I overheard you talking to your friend at the bar last weekend.”

Dean ran a hand over his face, blushing hotly. “Cas, I… there's no woman. My brother totally misunderstood what I was saying and I didn't feel like correcting him in the middle of the Roadhouse. There is someone, but I don't know if I should act on it.” Dean gave him a shy, searching look, and Cas inched closer again.  _ Just a little more, ‘will you walk into my parlour, said the spider to the fly’... _

“What's stopping you, sir?” He spoke in a low voice, keeping his hands from reaching for his boss only through iron will. He had him. He was certain.

“It's complicated. What if he thinks he can't say no? That there's some sort of obligation attached?” Dean explained, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“I'd say you would need to be careful of the dynamics. That maybe if you have authority in your professional relationship, you need to give up control in your personal one. Is that something you can do?” Dean gulped, staring at him, his mouth moving but no sound emerging. Cas drew himself up and stepped forward deliberately, and Dean fell back into his chair, his eyes wide, and growing wider as Cas crowded into his space, almost straddling his lap. “I asked you a question,  _ Dean.” _

The noise that emerged from Dean's throat when Cas used his name for the first time was a plaintive whimper, and Cas bit back a predatory growl at the submissive sound. Dean met his eyes, his pupils blown wide. “Yes, sir,” he finally replied in a heated whisper, and Cas swiftly bent and wrapped his hand around his boss' tie and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue traced over the seam of Dean's lips, which parted with a soft sigh, letting him in. Cas kept kissing him slowly, deeply, exploring the texture of his lips, the taste of him, until Dean was clutching at him, pulling him closer until Cas had to either break the kiss or sit on his lap.

“So good for me, my pet,” Cas murmured as he pulled back, his voice nearly a growl. “Now, let's get out of here. Because the first time I fuck you, it will not be on your desk, Dean.”

Dean licked his lips and swallowed harshly, the green of his eyes nearly eclipsed by pupil. “Oh, are you going to be fucking me then?” he tried to challenge, but his voice was breathy and soft, and Cas simply raised an eyebrow at him.

“Whether I spend hours opening that sweet hole and then fuck you into the mattress, or swallow you down until you're aching and begging for it before I climb onto your cock and ride you into oblivion, rest assured. I'll be the one fucking you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean wasn't certain he was still breathing, but he was speaking, so he must be. Okay, he was babbling, pleading Cas to not stop with his lips and tongue, and oh  _ god  _ his fingers, opening him relentlessly. 

“Please,  _ please _ Cas, I need more!” he gasped, moaning as his lover chuckled, feeling it vibrate through him as Cas’ tongue pierced him again, over and over until Cas was fucking him with tongue, his beard rough against Dean’s inner thighs.

Dean writhed on his bed, rocking his hips in desperation against Cas' face, seeking the pressure, the fullness that would push him over the edge. Cas' hands gripped his hips suddenly, pinning him in place as he sucked lightly on his balls, first one then the other, then attacked the hollow below his hip bone, sucking until he left a bruise and Dean was bucking and howling under his mouth.

Cas slowly worked his way up his body, and he found himself staring into blue eyes that shone with amusement, lust, and possessive pride. “Something you wanted, Dean?” Cas asked in his husky voice, nuzzling against his throat for a moment, then flicking his tongue over his earlobe. 

“Fuck, Cas, you're killin’ me here,” Dean complained, reaching for his new lover only to discover Cas was still dressed. “How the fuck am I naked when you've lost--what, your shoes?!”

“Are you complaining about my methods, Mr. Winchester?” Cas mocked lightly, sliding down to tease at a nipple, his cock hard against Dean's thigh despite the slacks separating them. Dean flexed his leg and Cas groaned against his chest, rutting against his thigh for a moment before meeting Dean's eyes with a scorching stare. “Keep that up and I'll stop, Dean.”

Dean moaned softly, dropping his head back on the pillows, then met his lover's eyes again. “I don't think so. You want this as much as I do, and if you stop, that means you've spent this time prepping me but you're NOT going to fuck me? Not going to feel how tight and hot I am for you? Don't you wa-- _ aaaanh!” _

Cas interrupted his thoughts by licking a stripe down his cock, then squirmed down to stand at the foot of the bed. Slowly undoing his vest and sliding it down his arms, Cas then tossed it carelessly onto the chair Dean had by the window. Cas' shirt followed next, his fingers moving so slowly Dean could swear there was a minute between each button being released to reveal more delectably tanned skin. When Cas finally tossed the shirt, Dean spotted a tiny mole next to his nipple, and decided then and there to investigate closer. Preferably with his tongue.  _ Fuck, he's built, those arms… _

...had nothing on the thighs that were revealed when Cas dropped his slacks, and Dean whined deep in his throat, knowing no matter what happened next, he was in for one hell of a night. A sudden thought froze him in place. “Cas… I don't want just a fuck with you. I don't want just one night, and I don't want a booty call.”

“Good. Neither do I. I'm not planning on letting go. You're mine now, pet. Can you say the same?”

“I'm in this for the long haul. I'm not gonna say ‘til death do us part or anything, ‘cause it's a bit soon for that. But Cas…” he hesitated, then shrugged, throwing caution to the wind, “Cas, I'm in love with you.”

Cas stared at him for a moment, then scrambled onto the bed, and fell into Dean’s arms, kissing him wildly--desperately. “Dean.  _ Dean. _ You're mine.” Dean smiled against his lips, wrapping his arms around Cas, trailing his fingers down his back. Cas groaned, his body rocking against Dean's in one sexy wave after another, until finally Dean couldn't take it any longer and pushed him back.

“Cas, lose the fucking underwear and fuck me. Now! Or am I gonna be the one riding you into oblivion?” he demanded, throwing his lover a cheeky grin.

Cas gave that predatory grin Dean had first seen in the office, his eyes raking over Dean's naked body as he bit his lip, and Dean just about lost it at the sight. Cas slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, and Dean watched in agonizing anticipation as he inched them down. The head of his cock was trapped by the elastic for a moment, then sprang free, slapping solidly against his stomach, and Dean licked his lips, feeling a blush warming his cheeks as he stared. Cas cocked his head at him for a moment, then slowly ran his hand down his chest, down his stomach to grasp his cock in his fist, giving a soft groan as he stroked it once, then twice.

“Dean. Am I your first? Your first man, I mean?”

Dean shrugged and nodded. “I've been attracted to guys before. You're the first I've wanted. Is… is that a problem?”

“Oh no, Dean. I'm going to make it so good for you, pet. Condoms?”

Dean rolled and reached for the bedside table and Cas groaned, then started kissing his way over Dean's ankles and up the backs of his calves. He reached Dean's knees, his scruff tickling, and Dean squirmed under the light touch until Cas laid a gentle hand on his hip. Dean looked back over his shoulder and grinned. “Do I get to turn back over? Or should I just stay like this?” he asked, spreading his legs and arching his back, popping his hips up.

The hungry look on Cas' face sent a shiver down Dean's spine. Then he was on him, his body a hot line along Dean's back as he nipped at his earlobe, his cock pressed against his ass. Dean moaned, his eyes sliding shut, and he shoved the condoms into Cas' hand.

“Cas, please…” he whispered, and Cas kissed him gently on the temple. 

“Stay like this. It's easier the first time.” Cas dropped a light kiss every few inches down the spine until Dean was melting into the mattress under him, then moaned as Cas carefully slid a slicked finger into him again, and when Dean was pushing back against him, he added another. He scissored his fingers gently for a minute, then he was leaning over Dean again, whispering softly. “Dean, are you ready?”

“Mmm, Cas, yes!” he moaned, then gasped as he felt the head of Cas’ cock pressing against his rim. He tensed unconsciously and Cas gently soothed him, stroking his hand up and down his side, caressing his back, massaging his tight muscles until he relaxed. Dean could tell Cas was moving slowly to keep from rushing him, but Dean was ready now. He turned his head and met Cas' eyes, and Cas bent to capture his lips in a slow, tender kiss. As he started to pull back, Dean ran his tongue over his lips, and when Cas gasped he deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into Cas' mouth. Cas tensed above him, against him, and Dean pushed his hips back sharply, a muffled moan escaping him as the head of Cas' cock popped past his rim. Cas froze, and Dean deliberately rolled his hips, sliding him just a little deeper until Cas groaned and pushed against him lightly. 

Dean felt Cas slide deeper with a light, delicious burn that faded into sweet pleasure as they rocked slowly together. When Cas pulled his hips up and thrust shallowly, Dean felt a spark ignite in his core. He gave a surprised moan.

“Dean? Are you okay?” Cas asked, holding still while he waited for an answer.

Dean cast a sly glance back over his shoulder and wriggled slightly. “Yes,  _ sir!” _

“Fuck…” Cas snapped his hips forward, and Dean cried out, feeling that heat again. He pushed back against Cas, whimpering when the next thrust missed that magical spot. 

“What… what was that?” he stammered, and Cas gave a low chuckle, pulling his hips up again and shoving a pillow under his pelvis. He thrust slowly, and Dean cried out again.  _ “There!” _

“That, my dear pet, is your prostate. Good?” Cas asked. Dean nodded frantically as Cas brushed over it again.

“Yes, Cas! Oh, fuck!” Dean swore, a slow buzz building as Cas picked up the pace, thrusting deep then shallow, snapping his hips forward hard to bury himself in Dean, his balls slapping against his thighs, then moving in a dirty grind. Dean whimpered, writhing under Cas' touch, desperate for the next movement, the next burst of pleasure. When Cas snaked a hand underneath him and grasped his cock, Dean had to bite his lip to keep from coming, and he rolled his hips hard, pleading wordlessly. 

“Dean, you want me to fuck you? How do you want it?” Cas teased, flicking his tongue along the shell of his ear, rocking into him slowly again, sending a bolt of nearly electric pleasure through him as he nailed his prostate.

“Oh God, Cas, I… I don't--oh  **fuck** like that,  _ please!”  _ he begged, and soon the room was filled with the slap of skin against skin, Dean's voice escaping him in breathy moans and gasps. 

“You like that, Dean? Does that feel good, my sweet pet?” Cas growled against the nape of his neck, sweat dripping from them both as they moved together.

“Fuck Cas, fuck!  _ Uh, _ so good, baby, right there, there!” Cas locked his hands on Dean's hips, rutting into him, and Dean broke into wordless grunts, his voice climbing higher and higher with every thrust.  _ “Uh, uh, UH, hnnnnnngahhh!” _

Dean felt his body seize as his cock spurted over the pillow, heard Cas groan behind him, then he pulled back gently, and rolled Dean over onto his back. Dean was nearly boneless. He smiled lazily at Cas who was grinning at him with tender affection. Dean glanced down and saw Cas still hard and met Cas' gaze curiously.

“Cas, you didn't finish?” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous. “Is… is something wrong?”

Cas bent and kissed him sweetly. “Not at all. But trust me. Ever had an orgasm and then someone just kept sucking on you? Same kind of thing. Major oversensitivity. Let's give you a minute to settle so I don't make this unpleasant for you.”

“You're sweet. C’mere.” Dean pulled him down for another kiss and he felt Cas smile against his lips, then he was slowly sinking into Dean's body again. Dean felt the edge of too much that Cas warned him about, but rather than pull away, he wrapped his legs around Cas' hips and rocked against him lightly, letting him know it was okay.

“Oh,  _ Dean…” _ Cas moaned, then slowly rolled his hips, picking up the pace bit by bit, until he was eventually pounding into him. Dean was clutching at him desperately, his cock rock-hard between them again, stroking it with a frantic hand as Cas finally froze over him, his mouth dropped open in a rictus of pleasure as he shouted Dean's name. Dean came a second time a moment later, and they lay panting together, waiting for their hearts to slow.

Cas lifted his head from Dean's throat, pressing his lips against Dean's tenderly, then laid their foreheads together. Dean's eyes closed and he sighed happily, stroked his fingers through Cas' already dishevelled hair. He chuckled suddenly, and Cas pulled back slightly, head cocked to one side like a kitten.

“Just appreciating the chance to give you sex-hair the way it's meant to be, though I'm going to have a hard time keeping my hands out of it going forward. How am I supposed to stop touching you now that I can?”

“So don't, Dean. Don't ever stop,” Cas told him softly, lacing his fingers through Dean's and bending to kiss him again and again. He grimaced suddenly, and Dean felt his softened cock slide free with a small wince. “Come on, we should take a shower before this mess completely congeals.”

Dean grinned and trailed his nails lightly down Cas' spine, sending shivers through him. “You don't actually need an excuse to put your hands on me, babe,” he teased with a wink, and Cas chuckled even as he sat back on his heels, carefully removing the condom and tying it in a knot. He pulled Dean to his feet and caught him as he wobbled slightly, his expression more than a little smug. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, fuzzball,” Dean cracked as he moved with a slight limp towards the bathroom. Oh, he would be feeling that later, and what a delicious feeling it was. 

“Did you really just quote Star Wars at me?” Cas demanded, and Dean grinned. He had to appreciate a man who knew the classics.

“C'mon, shower, then we can order pizza or Chinese for dinner. Cas, what's wrong?” Dean asked as his lover went pale.

“No Chinese, preferably. I think it may be awhile before I get past last weekend,” Cas explained, grimacing.

“Oh, gotcha. Pizza it is,” Dean answered, then pulled Cas into his arms, tilting his head just so their lips met perfectly, and walked him into the large, double-headed shower, the spray deliciously hot against their bodies. They stumbled slightly, flinching from the cool tiles as they jockeyed for control of the kiss, until finally Dean found himself pinned to the wall, Cas' thick thighs trapping his, even as he kissed Dean senseless again. Dean could feel a warmth building in his gut, though his cock stayed soft between them, it being far too soon after two spectacular orgasms to even entertain the idea of a third. 

Cas worked his way down Dean's throat, and Dean whimpered, lifting his chin to give Cas better access, the rough scrape of his beard sending sparks through his body. Dean slid wet hands down Cas' chest, pausing to toy with his nipples and gave a pleased chuckle when Cas jolted under his touch, gasping his name. Dean gave a smug smile, and bent to flick his tongue over Cas' nipple, sucking on it until it was a taut bud and Cas was gasping for breath, his cock halfheartedly trying to rise. Dean smirked at his lover and slowly knelt before him, licking over the head of his cock gently. Cas' hands slapped against the shower wall behind Dean, and he widened his stance to better his balance. Dean fisted his hand loosely around Cas' cock, tugging slowly as he suckled the tip. Cas moaned and rocked forward, and Dean took his cock deeper, keeping his hand in place to keep from accidentally taking more than he was ready to try. The silky skin under his palm tightened as his cock swelled, and soon Dean was bobbing over Cas' shaft, twirling his tongue over the head and teasing at his balls with his other hand.

“Oh, fuck, Dean. Feels so good. Suck me, pet, that's it,” he coaxed, his fingers carding through Dean's hair, then tightening when Dean moved his hand to take him deeper. “Ohhhhh yeah, nnnnfffuck, babe, suck me, that's it.” Cas' moans grew louder in the small space, until he was pulling Dean away and crying out, even as Dean pushing back down and swallowed around him, catching the first spurt across his lips and chin but taking the rest down his throat. Cas groaned and slid slowly back and forth until his cock was no longer throbbing in Dean's mouth, then pulled back and sank to the tile floor and kissed Dean passionately. “I'm just going to sit here for a bit,” he murmured, still catching his breath. “Where did you learn to suck a cock like that?”

Dean shrugged, smiling. “I had a girlfriend in college who was trans. She didn't call it a cock, but, uh, the mechanics were the same.”

Cas seemed to hesitate, weighing his words, and Dean waited for him to speak. “So when you said I was your first… your first man, but not your first queer experience.”

“Yeah, that's true I suppose. But then I was with a bi girl in high school, so even if we looked like a straight couple, we were both queer ourselves. Anyway, this was my first time on the receiving end of anal sex, so thank you for making it so amazing,” Dean whispered, then leaned forward and kissed Cas softly. He reached up to the shelf and grabbed his shampoo, then slowly massaged it through Cas' hair, teasing lightly with his nails, working it through until Cas moaned and closed his eyes. 

“Mmmm… I'll give you about a hundred years to stop that,” Cas sighed happily, and Dean found himself chuckling softly as he melted under his hands. He stood carefully, wincing as his knee popped, and setting his lover upright, directing him under the spray to rinse out the suds. Pulling him close again he soaped up his torso, turning him in his arms, and cuddling against his back as his hands moved in slow circles over his chest. Cas dropped his head back against Dean's collarbone, and Dean kissed his temple. 

Dean slid his hands down over Cas' hips, thinking that next time he was going to take his time with those, and gently soaped his cock and balls, keeping his touch as impersonal as possible with his own cock nestled against the perfect globes of Cas' ass. 

Cas seemed to melt further against him under his hands, but then the absolute fucker clenched his ass and rolled his hips back, pressing against Dean teasingly. Dean muttered under his breath and slapped Cas' ass lightly, pulling a gasp and a shudder from him.

_ “Deannnnn,” _ he groaned, and Dean gripped his ass nearly hard enough to bruise and rocked forward, skimming his fingers down the cleft of Cas' ass to tease over his tight hole. He was pressing lightly at Cas' pucker when his stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl, and Cas burst out laughing. “Pizza, right?”

“Shut up. Yeah,” Dean muttered against the nape of his neck, feeling his cheeks burn. 

Cas turned in his arms and kissed him quickly. “I'll order, since I'm already clean. Thin crust vegetarian, light on the cheese?” he asked, citing Dean's typical order at work, the rare times he got pizza.

“Oh, hell no. It's the weekend. Meatlovers, pan crust, and cheesy garlic bread on the side. Number for the local place is on the fridge.” Dean gave him his best cheeky grin and Cas snorted with laughter in reply, even as he rolled his eyes and stepped out of the shower. Dean had the distinct pleasure of watching Cas bend at the waist to towel his legs dry, and his mouth watered at the perfect curve of his lover's ass. His cock stirred, and he stared down in disbelief for a moment, then adjusted the temperature lower. Not quite to cold shower territory, but enough to cool his passion for now. Cas was heading for the doorway with the towel about his hips when Dean stuck his head out. “Cas, you can steal some sweats, third drawer on my wardrobe. I… I'd like if you stayed tonight. If you want.”

Cas met his gaze with eyes bright, and looked him over as he bit his lower lip seductively. “I'd like that too, Dean.” He quickly stepped out and Dean gave himself the fastest shower possible. He was towelling himself off when Cas reentered the bathroom, looking criminally tempting barefoot in a pair of Dean's lounge pants. His hair was a disaster, not unlike its usual style at work, and Dean pressed himself close, his skin pebbling now that he was out of the shower and into the slightly cooler air. Cas seemed to radiate heat, and Dean sighed appreciatively as he burrowed into his arms.

Cas' hands trailed down his spine to cup his ass, squeezing playfully as Dean returned the favour, sliding his hands inside the waist of the borrowed sleep pants and kneading at his ass. Dean trailed kisses across the bridge of Cas' nose, then tilted his head just the tiny bit needed to capture his lips again. He walked him backwards out of the bathroom, and over to the bed, discovering at a glance that Cas had managed to find new sheets and changed the bed while Dean showered. So Dean didn't hesitate at all to push Cas over onto the fresh sheets, and crawled over him, kissing his way over Cas' throat, sucking lightly at his pulse point, then licking a stripe up to his earlobe. Cas threw his head back on a moan, and Dean was captivated by the line of his throat as he melted under Dean's touch. He kissed his way down his chest and abs, nuzzling and sucking at his hip bones and leaving dark bruises. 

“Dean, oh fuck…” Cas growled, the sleep pants tenting obscenely, a wet spot slowly growing at the head of his cock. Dean bent to brush the tip of his nose against the wet spot lightly, then prowled back up his lover's body and sank against him, lining up his cock with Cas' and rolling his hips. Again and again they moved together, frotting against each other until both men spurted their release, and Dean collapsed over Cas. 

“Cas, that was--” The doorbell rang, and Dean froze, then swore, pushing himself upright. He fished for clothing and ended up with a t-shirt on backwards which stuck disgustingly to the mess on his stomach, and a pair of lounge pants that had seen better days. He stumbled through the house to the door, only to discover he didn't have his wallet. His face burning in embarrassment, he told the pizza delivery guy to wait a second and turned back, when Cas appeared at the bottom of the stairs with Dean's wallet in his hands. He tossed it over, then turned for the kitchen.

Dean paid the driver and tipped generously, knowing he was a mess and reeked of sex. The driver handed over the food and made a hasty retreat, and Dean carried the pizzas to the living room, dropping them on the coffee table and going hunting for his … what was he? Lover, certainly. Boyfriend? Maybe. Assistant? Hmm… they'd have to sort that out. Maybe...

Cas appeared with a couple of beers from the fridge, and Dean greeted him with a gentle kiss. “How does Dr. Sexy sound?”

Cas snorted and grinned. “Better than the last time I tried watching it. I was slightly bitter about this guy I was lusting after asking out a woman, or so I thought.”

Dean winced slightly as he turned on the TV and found the show. “I need to tell Sammy the truth. I'd just always hidden that part of me from my dad, he would have lost his mind. And the easiest way to keep a secret is don't tell anyone, so I never got around to telling Sammy after Dad died.”

“How did Adler find out to hassle you?” Cas asked, puzzled.

Dean gave a bitter smile and shook his head, then huffed a laugh. “He found me on Grindr.” Cas choked on his beer and Dean handed him a napkin with a wry smile. “Yeah, I do see the hypocrisy. Not worth calling him out on it though. Thing is, there was no fucking way I'd have been paired with him, so if he'd kept his fucking mouth shut, I wouldn't have known he was on it. Dumbass.”

Cas cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Still, that's awkward.”

“Could have been worse. Alastair, the mailroom guy, he's on there too. That was when I deleted the app. Something about him rubs me the wrong way.” Dean shuddered, and Cas wrapped an arm around him. 

“Don't worry Dean, I'll keep you safe from the creepy mailroom guy. Like I said, you're all mine now,” Cas teased, and Dean elbowed him lightly.

“Shaddup. I've just been glad to have you in the office as a buffer when he drops off the mail. He used to try to chat all the time, but he'd do this weird flirting…” Dean grabbed another piece of pizza with a frown creasing his brow, and Cas rubbed a firm hand over his back. Dean quirked a smile at him, which softened from a grin to something warm and gentle as Cas leaned in for a kiss. “Mmmm… you taste good,” Dean murmured, and Cas pulled back with a laugh.

“I taste like pizza and beer, and garlic bread,” Cas retorted.

“Mhmm. You taste good,” Dean gave him a teasing grin, and snuggled against his side.


	5. Chapter 5

After barely making it through one episode without dozing off, Cas found himself being dragged back to the bedroom. Dean wandered into the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later, handed Cas a new toothbrush and Cas gave him a quick kiss before ducking past. Taking care of his own nightly routine, he returned to the bedroom to find Dean already under the blankets waiting for him. Cas joined him without hesitation, Dean worming his way into his arms as the little spoon, and Cas fell asleep in moments, a smile on his lips. 

He dreamt of things he didn't dare speak aloud in the morning light, of holidays and children, of a home together, of years living with each other. He dreamt, too, of all the ways it could go wrong, and tossed his head in his sleep at the darker dreams that haunted him. But when he woke and Dean rolled over and looked at him with luminous green eyes, Cas felt all the possibilities filling his heart, chasing away the shadows.

They spent the weekend together. Cas tried to bring up work a time or two, but Dean looked at him with such pleading that he dropped it for the time being. They both knew it would have to be addressed. Despite Dean not having any other subordinates, it could still cause issues. 

Cas invited Dean to join him for Sunday brunch with Anna, and he agreed happily. Dean texted Sam saying that things were progressing with Cas, and they made plans for the following weekend. As a homicide detective, Sam's schedule was at the mercy of his caseload, and right now was a busy time. 

Brunch was either a raving success or an unmitigated disaster, and hours later Cas still couldn't decide. Dean and Anna got along like they'd known each other for years, but with their personalities, they spent the entire time snarking at each other, the tall, fiery redhead giving as good as she got. When they finally left the breakfast joint, Cas blew out on a long exhale, and Dean eyed him curiously. 

“What's up, Cas? You seem kinda freaked out or tense, at least.” Dean opened the passenger door for Cas then walked around to climb in behind Baby's wheel. He casually kissed his fingertips and then tapped the dash, and Cas let his concerns go with a wave of affection.

“You and Anna in one place was more intense than I thought it might be, that's all,” Cas explained with a wry smile.

Dean gave him a sheepish grin and leaned over to kiss him on the temple, and Cas felt his smile stretch. “Come back to my place again?” he asked.

“Are you asking me to spend the night again? Because if you are--” Dean cut him off, speaking rapidly.

“I'm pushing too fast, I'm sorry,” Dean babbled, and Cas captured his lips to stop his rambling apology.

“Because if you are asking me to stay again, yes. We just need to get some clothes from my place.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Dean murmured against his lips, a goofy grin on his face. Cas smiled, even more certain that Dean was perfect for him.

****

They pulled up to Cas' apartment building, and Dean held his hand as they rode the elevator up to the eighth floor. His thumb kept absently stroking over Cas' knuckles, and Cas found himself having trouble thinking about what he needed to pack in an overnight bag. He let them into his apartment and, without thinking, pulled Dean along to his bedroom. He stripped out of his clothes from Friday night and tossed the shirt into the hamper, only to hear a soft groan from Dean who sat on the edge of the bed and eyed him hungrily. Cas found himself crossing the space between them, and Dean pulled him down onto his lap as he fell across the bed, kissing him sweetly. 

Cas stared down at Dean--who was framed by the pillows and his skin glowing in the sun’s rays coming through the window--and something in him snapped. He scrambled off of Dean and attacked his belt, stripping it and his jeans free in seconds. Dean's eyes widened at his desperation, and quickly pulled his shirt over his head. Cas stripped off his underwear and grabbed lube and a condom from the drawer before reaching for Dean. He tucked the elastic of Dean’s underwear under his balls and stroked him until he was fully hard, then quickly rolled the condom onto him and slathered his cock with lube. 

“Cas, wait,” Dean murmured when Cas straddled him, lining himself up. “We haven't prepped you, I don't wanna hurt you.”

Cas chuckled darkly, gripping Dean's cock and sinking down slowly until his ass was resting against Dean's thighs. “Remind me to show you the dildo in the bottom drawer,” he said, his voice low and breathy. He held himself still for a moment longer, then set a punishing pace, riding Dean hard and fast, his back arching in pleasure as Dean grabbed his hips and started to fuck into him. “Oh, fucking fuck, Dean, harder! I want to be squirming every time I sit down at my desk tomorrow.” Cas threw his head back and shouted Dean's name at a particularly well placed thrust. “I'm gonna think of you fucking me until I'm so horny I have to jack off in the office bathroom, then I'm going to crawl under your desk and give you the blowjob of your life, so anyone who comes in will hear you screaming my name.”

Dean growled and rolled him onto his back, hooking his elbow under Cas' knee and pounding into him, pulling a sharp cry from him. He drew back and lifted Cas' hips until he was nearly vertical, weight resting on his shoulders and the back of his neck. Dean stood over him, squatting down until he could angle his cock downward and drive into him. Cas shouted his name again, and Dean grasped the headboard for balance with one hand as he pounded into him. He let go of the headboard and grabbed Cas' ankles, while Cas held his weight and balance with his hands on his back, crying out.

“Oh fuck Dean, I'm gonna--” Cas didn't have a chance to get his words out before Dean growled Cas' name as he came. Cas followed a moment later, spraying over his own face and lips. Dean carefully let him lay back down, and Cas pulled him down for a sloppy kiss, Dean moaning against his lips and then his skilled tongue running over his chin, lapping up the spunk. “Fuck, Dean, you are something else, you know that?”

Dean kissed his way down his throat, lapping at drops of come here and there, until he carefully pulled himself free. Cas winced as he did so and Dean gave him an apologetic smile, then crawled down to kiss softly at the abused, reddened hole. Cas found a soft sound escaping him at Dean’s tenderness. Then Dean was kissing his hole again, teasing lightly around the gaping rim. With one last press of his lips, Dean stood, wobbling slightly. 

Cas smirked. “I see how it is, you just couldn't stand ‘til now. And here I thought you were just that sweet.”

“Hey now,” Dean pouted, looking injured, “I  _ am _ that sweet.”

Cas laughed up at him and stretched his abused muscles. “I know, Dean. Why do you think I fell for you ages ago?”

Dean winked as he sauntered from the bedroom, returning a minute later with a warm washcloth. “Ages ago, huh? Like a month ago? Two months ago?”

“Well, four and a half months ago I had an interview with this extremely fuckable man who was also funny and charming…” Cas told him, grinning when Dean's cheeks reddened. 

“You're gonna make me blush,” Dean told him, ignoring the heat already spreading across his cheeks and reddening his ears.

Cas sat up as Dean came closer, and allowed the other man to wipe his face clean before pulling him down for a slow, tender kiss. “Let's get tidied up and head back to your place. Your mattress is way more comfortable.”

“Memory foam, it's the only way to live.”

“Well, far be it for me to risk your life for a night here,” Cas teased, and Dean guffawed, his head thrown back as he laughed. 

“I'd need clothes anyway. But another time, you're worth any risk,” Dean told him, his green eyes luminous in the afternoon light pouring through the window. “C'mon, let's get dressed and hit the grocery store. I'm making burgers.”

“Mmmm, my favourite. But only if you let me make pie,” Cas countered, and watched in amusement as Dean's mouth dropped open. 

“You make pie?” Dean asked, his eyes nearly glazing over. “Dude, marry me.”

Cas pulled him in for another kiss, then pushed him upright. “Not before the first date, Mr. Winchester.”

“Hmmm... maybe we should go out for dinner then,” Dean replied, reaching for his boxers and jeans. 

“Not a chance, you promised me homemade burgers.” Cas moved to roll off the bed and eyed him hungrily as he pulled the jeans over his bowed legs.

“So what's in the bottom drawer?” Dean asked teasingly as Cas pulled fresh clothes from the wardrobe. Cas deliberately bent and pulled on his jeans commando, and smirked over his shoulder at the muttered  _ “sonofabitch”. _

He bent again, maybe a touch slower than he needed to, and opened the drawer to retrieve his second favourite dildo--a monstrosity called “Goliath”--that when Cas tossed to Dean, he couldn't get his fingers around.

“Jesus, man, why are you with me?” Dean asked as he eyed the colourful dildo a moment, then handed it back.

“Because it can't fold me in half and fuck me the way you can, and it definitely doesn't make burgers,” Cas told him, dropping the toy back in the drawer and pushing it shut with his foot, then grabbing a worn AC/DC shirt from the wardrobe to pull over his head. 

Dean glanced at the shirt with a grin and hauled Cas into his arms for a kiss. “Could you be any more perfect?”

“Well, I  _ have _ been thinking about getting my tongue pierced,” Cas said with a wink when Dean pulled back, and watched gleefully as Dean's brain short-circuited, sending him down on his ass hard into the bed. He was shoving his toiletry bag into a duffel when Dean blinked and turned to watch him again. Cas sent him a teasing, seductive stare.

“You're evil,” Dean pointed out. “And I'm going to keep you.”

“Promises, promises,” Cas teased him, and Dean was in his space again in a heartbeat, seemingly unable to keep his hands off him.

“As long as you let me, Cas. I'm not talkin’ about one weekend of sex and then moving on. I want to build something.”

Cas gave him a slow smile. “Me too, Dean. I'm not walking away from this. I'm not letting you go.”

***

Dean woke the following morning before his alarm, his body loose and languid, a wave of bliss washing over him as Cas slid a finger over his prostate, hole still wet and stretched from last night's activities. His tongue was busily swirling around the head of his cock, pressing at the sweet spot just under the ridge, and Dean let out a noise that absolutely was  _ NOT  _ a whine. Cas' gorgeous blue eyes glanced up to meet his gaze, and with one last suck, he popped off Dean's cock and crawled up his body to straddle his chest, his cock tantalizingly close to his lips.

“Good morning Mr. Winchester. Can I get you something to drink?” he asked in his office phone voice, and stroked his hand over his shaft, precome pearling at the tip.

“You asshole, get back down there and fuck me,” Dean ordered, though he bent and flicked his tongue over Cas' cock before he could move. Cas groaned and flipped around, dropping his cock over Dean's face as he bent and swallowed him down, sliding his fingers back into his hole and aiming for his prostate. Dean let out a profanity-laced shout, then slid his lips over Cas' cock and took him down his throat, feeling on the edge of gagging until he forced himself to relax. He moaned around Cas' shaft as he found his prostate again, and Dean quickly found himself climbing towards an orgasm. He opened his throat around Cas' cock again, deliberately swallowed and heard his lover moan, his hips thrusting against Dean’s face once before he froze, clearly afraid of pushing too hard. Dean reached up and wrapped his arms around Cas' thighs. Tilting his head back, he pulled Cas closer then let him go slightly, and Cas quickly took the hint. After a couple tentative strokes he went to town, fucking into Dean's throat even as he sucked him down, and Dean quickly found himself flying over the edge, his body seizing as his orgasm wracked through him. 

He held on as Cas gave a few more thrusts, then Cas was bowing back over him, shouting his release as he spurted down Dean's throat.

“Oh fuck, Cas,” Dean muttered a few minutes later as they snuggled in post-coital bliss, “best way to wake up, ever. If I could wake up that way every day until I die…” Dean froze suddenly, realizing what he'd said, but Cas simply pulled him closer until Dean was resting against his chest.

“We're talking about forever, aren't we?” Cas commented, his voice gravel-filled and certain.

Dean pushed himself up in Cas' arms and kissed him softly. “I am. You mean the same?”

Cas shut his eyes for a moment then opened them, his cerulean gaze ablaze as he broke into a breathtaking smile. “I do.”

Dean slanted his lips over Cas' with a moan, and they spent the next twenty minutes kissing in a slow, unhurried fashion. 

Cas smiled as he drew back with a sigh. “We better get ready. I don't know how long your drive is, but I'd usually be out the door already for the bus.”

“We've got time, but then if we want to hit the bakery, we should move sooner rather than later.”

Cas stroked a hand down Dean's ass, and teased lightly at the cleft between his cheeks. “You might want a shower to take care of the lube from last night…”

Dean grinned at him, and bent to nip at his chest, bowing him off the bed. “Or maybe I should pack more in my bag so you can fuck me over the desk at lunch.” Then he rolled off his lover and sauntered into the bathroom, only to find himself pinned to the shower wall a minute later, Cas fucking into him until he was shouting and sobbing as he came.

They were late for work, but Dean made his own hours, and was hardly going to call out Cas on it, so they didn't care.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas had trouble focusing on his work that day, catching Dean's eye every few minutes through the open door until he finally walked over and pulled it almost closed just so he wouldn't be tempted to stare any more. He was sorting through the mail when he found a greeting card envelope addressed to Dean. He wondered what occasion he'd missed, and took the envelope and a report that needed Dean's attention to his office.

Dean was on a call, and though he smiled warmly at Cas, he was also running his hands through his hair and pacing. Cas knew he wouldn't be free for a while.

He ducked out and scribbled a quick note for his desk saying _ coffee run, _ and headed out to the bakery, a homey, inviting place called Kingdom Pie. It was run by a sarcastic, cheeky woman named Meg, and Cas had frequently wondered if he would have been attracted to her if he were straight. He could tell she was gorgeous, with a lovely face and dark curls, but she just didn't do a thing for him.

“Hey, Clarence, how come you never called me?” Meg asked, and he stared at her in confusion. 

“Meg, a couple reasons. I wouldn't want to lead you on as I'm gay,” he smirked, and she tossed her dark hair, rolling her eyes.

“Thanks, I'm not a moron,” she pointed out.

“And you never gave me your new number,” he reminded her.

“You win some, you lose some. But I gave you my number on a napkin a week and a half ago, you were too preoccupied getting that pecan pie you love so much.”

Cas blinked for a minute, then started laughing. “Did you put your name on it?” he asked, gasping for breath as she made his coffee order.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, eyed him as she grabbed the bran muffin with raisins Dean always got on Mondays, as well as his own honey cruller. 

“Because the pie was for my boss.” Finally he couldn't contain his laughter, and had to lean on the counter, where he laughed until his stomach ached.

“Wait, six feet, dark blond, freckles, gorgeous green eyes, pretty enough to be a Ken doll?” she demanded, and Cas smirked, knowing intimately that Dean did _ not _match a Ken doll in the important ways. He forgot he had an audience. “Holy shit, you're tapping that, aren't you, Clarence?!”

Cas quickly gave her an impassive expression, but knew his smirk gave him away. Meg crowed with laughter until she had to wipe her eyes, even as she raked her gaze over him from head to toe and back again.

“Bravo, Clarence, I didn't know you had it in you,” she congratulated him, and he found his mouth running away from him again.

“Not just in me” slipped out even as he slapped his palm over his mouth. He ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck," he barked with a laugh. 

Meg snorted as she handed over the coffees and closed his other hand around his cash. “No way you're paying after giving me the most delicious visuals I've imagined in months.” She winked, and Cas found himself laughing even more. “Bring him in some morning, I need to see you two together. Free coffee for a month in it for you.”

Cas thought of Dean and grinned. “Make it two coffees a day, you make the money on the baked goods anyway, and I'll bring him in tomorrow.”

Meg grinned wickedly. “Deal.”

Neither noticed the man in the corner listening with a frown.

*** 

Cas arrived back at the office and found the door to Dean's office open wide again, and he stopped in the doorway, eyeing his boss, his pet, who was typing rapidly as he spoke on the phone.

“For sure, we can follow up on Wednesday at two if you like. Absolutely, this quarter has been just phenomenal in terms of developments. Uh huh, we can certainly action that plan by next week. You bet, have a good one.” He disconnected the call and pulled his headset from his ear, clicking on his computer as he smiled at Cas.

“What does that jargon even mean?” Cas teased, kicking the door shut and locking it, then sat on the edge of Dean's desk while handing over his coffee and the bag holding the muffin. 

“Ugh. Means I have another meeting with these idiots; they managed to squeeze a profit despite their asinine business plan, which likely means layoffs, and they're cutting their marketing budget, so I have to downscale the damn portfolio I made for them by next week.”

“Must be karma,” Cas told him as he sipped his coffee, and Dean's head snapped up in shock.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, his brow creasing.

Cas deliberately bit into his cruller, then eyed his bag. “Mmm. Got a napkin for me, Dean?” he asked, slowly licking his fingers.

Dean froze, then grinned at him sheepishly. “Found out about that, huh? I meant to give it to you on Monday,” he explained, pulling the drawer open, “but then you weren't here for two days and I was so frazzled I forgot.”

Cas reached in and scooped up the napkin, then his eyes fell on a small envelope with his name on it. “And that?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question, and watching with keen interest as Dean stammered and blushed.

“Um, the card that went with your plant, but then I thought you were with Anna and it didn't feel appropriate…”

“Why, what does it say?” Cas teased.

“Hey now, no teasing me, when you gave me that card this morning. Secret admirer, my ass.” Dean teased.

Cas froze, thinking of the envelope he'd brought in earlier. “Oh, liked that, did you?” he asked.

“Who knew I was dating such a sap,” Dean smiled up at him, pulling the card from his bag. He glanced over it again, then looked up at him again, going still when he really looked at Cas' face. “Holy shit. This isn't from you, is it?”

**I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW,**

**I’VE WANTED YOU FROM THE**

**FIRST MOMENT I SAW YOU.**

**AND I WILL HAVE YOU TO MYSELF.**

**YOUR SECRET ADMIRER**

Dean glanced at the card in his hand, and dropped it on the desk as though burned. “That's creepy as hell. Hearing from you that you wanted me from the start? Pretty fuckin' hot, but then we'd already established how we feel. This is just weird, man.”

Cas set his cruller on a napkin, and swallowed, his stomach unsettled. “Have you got the envelope?”

“Yeah, like I said, I thought it was from you. No stamp. I'll have to ask the mailroom how it got to them. Or maybe reception on the main floor had it walked in.”

Cas bent and kissed him firmly. “Good news is you're off the market, so we can deal with this together if you're worried. Speaking of doing things together… about that napkin. Meg wanted to know why I never called.”

“Direct, isn't she?” Dean grinned, flicking at the napkin, and Cas chuckled.

“You have no idea. And better than the creepily obscure,” he retorted, poking at the note on the desk with distaste. “Anyway, she's a friend, and no worries, she knows I'm gay. She got a new number and needed to get it to me. Want to come in and say hi tomorrow on the way to work? I always had time because of when the bus dropped off, but driving in is different.”

Dean grinned at him, suddenly carefree and happy. “If it means we're carpooling because you're spending the night again… I'm sold.”

Cas slid off the edge of the desk and straddled him, quickly loosening Dean's tie and popping a couple buttons before nuzzling his way down his throat to suck softly, leaving a hickey over his collarbone. Dean groaned softly, bucking up against him, and Cas licked his way up to his earlobe. “I said it this morning, Dean. I said forever, and I meant it. You're mine.”

Dean whined quietly as Cas rocked down against him. “Caaaaasssssss, I usually have a shirt with me. What I don't have is pants. You can't--oh fuck, babe, I can't..._ nfffuck, yes _.”

Cas had nipped his earlobe and slid slowly to his knees, dragging his solid frame along Dean's body the whole way. “So, Mr. Winchester. How has your day been?” he asked, his voice a softer version of his usual professional tone.

“Fuck Cas, wait, the door…”

“Is locked,” he told him, and undid Dean’s belt buckle, then opened his slacks. He reached in and pulled out Dean's half-hard cock, and bent to suck him down, stroking it slowly as his tongue worked over Dean's erection. Simultaneously, he nudged his legs further apart and pulled his own cock out. Dean leaned back in his chair, his hands carding through Cas' thick, dark hair, and Cas knew there would be no disguising the mess of it. Luckily, he was always running his fingers through his own hair, so no one would be the wiser. The thought pulled a moan from him, and Dean shushed him gently, a reminder that they couldn't be heard. He heard a quiet click and the lights went dark, and he smiled up at his lover who had killed them remotely, so no light would leak under the door and betray them. 

_ Fuck it. _

Cas popped upright and reached into his pocket for the pair of lubricated condoms and the small packet of lube. He rolled one onto himself and the second onto his wide-eyed boss, and then turned and bent to stretch over the desk, grabbing the far edge.

“Mr. Winchester, I do believe it's time for our performance review,” he told him teasingly, glancing over his shoulder and biting his lip. Dean bit back a groan and grabbed the lube, slicking his cock and lining up. He pushed forward slowly until he bottomed out, and Cas bit down on his own forearm through his shirt to keep from crying out. 

“Mr. Novak, it seems I've been remiss in teaching you when to keep your mouth shut.” Dean hissed behind him, and he set a hard, deep pace that drove into Cas' prostate with each thrust. Cas reached down and gripped his shaft tightly, the forbidden nature of being fucked by his boss in his office hitting all his kinks apparently. He couldn't wait to turn the tables and return the favour. 

“So sorry, Mr. Winchester. How can I make it up to you?” he asked softly, giving Dean a wide eyed look, then biting back a grin as he reached back with both hands to spread his cheeks further apart.

“You're going to take my cock, and I'm going to load you with my come,” Dean threatened, though they both knew he was wearing a condom. Cas smiled at the idea though, squirming until Dean clamped down on his waist, holding him still as he pounded into him until they were both fighting to control their breathing, fighting not to scream out their pleasure. Cas grabbed Dean's stress ball and bit down on it, his body shaking as his came silently, no more than the barest whimper escaping him. 

He clamped around Dean's cock as he came, and heard his lover softly breathed _ “Oh shit…” _ as he poured into the condom, the heat filling Cas despite the barrier. Cas spat out the stress ball, which bounced and rolled across the floor, and grasped the condom carefully, stroking himself empty and pulling it loose. He fumbled for a napkin and wiped the end of his cock, then meticulously wrapped the condom and dropped it into the empty bag from the bakery. 

Dean pulled out and Cas moaned quietly at the loss, then again as Dean's tongue lapped over his hole for a moment before he was carefully wiped with a napkin and his underwear and slacks were pulled up. Cas was buckling his belt when Dean snorted a laugh, and he turned to look at his lover, who was deliciously flushed, his lower lip red and bitten from containing his cries.

“What's so funny?” Cas asked, and Dean waved a spunk-covered napkin at him, the note and phone number smeared beyond recognition.

“Didn't mean to grab that one,” he protested as Cas started to laugh, his body shaking as he all but fell against Dean, who collapsed back onto his chair. It protested with a squeal of springs, and that merely set them off further. 

“Jealous type, are you, Dean? S’okay, I nearly bit your stress ball in half,” Cas confessed. “Much prefer a ball gag, that thing tasted vile.”

“Jesus, Cas, you_ cannot _ put shit like that in my head when we're not at home,” Dean complained, and Cas went still against him. 

“Hmmm. So no ball gags, no holding my wrists behind me while you fuck me into the desk again? No images of me holding your ankles against my shoulders as _ you're _ spread out on the desk, me fucking you until you black out from holding back your screams?” Dean's breathing hitched for a moment, and Cas pulled back to meet his eyes. “Unless, as you said, we're at … _ home?” _

Dean blushed, then shrugged, a silly grin on his face. “Fuck it. Move in with me.”

Cas chuckled, then stilled, his smile threatening to take over. “You're serious?”

“As a stab wound. At least, I think about you not being there when I wake up, and it hurts the way I imagine being stabbed might.”

“One, we need to work on your romantic similes. Stab wounds aren't ever romantic. Two, yes!” Cas bent and kissed him hotly, lacing his fingers at the back of his neck and devouring his lips.

“Hey, scars can be sexy, movies say so,” Dean retorted with a grin and a wink, to which Cas rolled his eyes even as he leaned in for another kiss, this one gentle and slow.

“You're such an assbutt,” he announced in a lightly mocking tone, then winced, knowing Dean's reaction was likely to match Anna's to his insult of choice. But rather than laugh, Dean's smile softened.

“I love you,” he said happily, then sighed almost petulantly. “Fun time is over though. We need to get some work done so we can prove we're productive despite our relationship.”

Cas bent and kissed him once more, leaning his forehead against Dean's. “And that's why you're the boss, I guess.”

Dean grinned, then his eyes widened as Cas meticulously did up the buttons on his shirt and straightened his tie. Dean closed his eyes for a minute, and Cas bent to his ear.

“I'm going to rip those clothes off you when we get home” he warned in a husky whisper. “I hope you can sew a button.” Cas headed for the office door, the strangled complaint behind him most satisfying.


	7. Chapter 7

Cas worked his way through the day's emails and reports, and then suddenly Dean was tapping on his shoulder. Cas finished up the latest portfolio and glanced at the clock. 

“Getting out of here by six? You feeling okay, sir?” Cas teased, even as he tidied his desk. 

“Yeah, well, I have a hot date. And time for you to get out of here too.”

“Well, far be it for me to make you late for your hot date, so shall we?” He gestured towards the office door, and collected his tan trench coat before walking out into the hall. He and Dean made for the elevator, where they waited in silence for the doors to open. As they entered, Cas found his eyes drawn to Dean, who returned his gaze with one nearly tangible in the enclosed space. Cas loosened his tie and let it dangle from his throat, then popped the top button of his shirt, Dean's eyes following like a magnet. He dug in his pocket for his phone as Dean's eyes glued themselves south of his belt, and despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Cas felt himself stirring. He sent him a quick text.

AngelofThursday:  _ eyes up here, mister. _

Dean's phone pinged and he jumped even as the doors opened. Cas heard the clatter as Dean dropped his phone, and Dean swore as he scrambled to pick it up. Cas cast a glance over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and Dean found his mouth going dry. He pocketed his phone and walked quickly to Cas' side as they headed for the Impala. Dean unlocked the passenger door for Cas then made his way around to get behind the wheel, kissing his fingers and tapping the dash like Cas had always seen him do. 

They drove in companionable silence, waiting until they'd pulled away from the office before linking their hands on the bench. 

“I need more clothes, babe. I packed for today, but I figured you'd get sick of me, not ask me to move in.” Cas' tone said he was joking, but there was a thread of uncertainty that he let slip through, wanting to know how Dean would react.

Dean glanced over at him at the next light, and leaned over for a kiss. “Regrets?”

Cas smiled softly, and kissed Dean's knuckles gently. “Just one. We aren't home and in bed yet.”

“Insatiable, damn. What about dinner, so we can keep our strength up? Shit, I'm outta groceries.”

“We hit the store, and I can get a four ingredient dinner going that'll take an hour. With minimal attention for that hour…” Cas offered, and Dean quickly found himself pulling into a grocery store. Cas ran in, and came back with a bag of groceries in just a few minutes, then they headed for Cas' apartment. Dean went with him, and Cas packed enough clothes for the week, checked his mail, and they were gone again.

Dean headed off to get changed while Cas started dinner, halving and cleaning a spaghetti squash and sliding it into the oven to roast. When Dean came back, he eyed Cas in his work clothes, and Cas caught his eye and gave a teasing frown. 

“Missed my chance to tear your clothes off, huh? Ah well, there'll be other opportunities. Hey, wanna start on the sauce? Sausage needs to be cut up and browned, then canned tomatoes added. I'll be just a minute.” Cas slipped from the kitchen and made his way to the bedroom. There he found the wardrobe had been cleared so half the space was available for him, and he felt a warmth in his chest. They were really doing this. Dean was his.

He hung up his work clothes and tossed his everyday things into the drawers. Deciding they weren't likely to go out again, he grabbed a pair of Dean's lounge pants and slipped them over his hips, then wandered back to the kitchen barechested, wrapping his arms around Dean when he got there. Dean leaned back against him and let out a soft noise of satisfaction as Cas kneaded at his shoulders. 

“Mmm, that feels--you're half naked!” Dean exclaimed as he turned to face Cas. A hungry, possessive look crossed his face when he realized Cas was in his lounge pants again.

“If I get tomato sauce on me, I'm easier to clean.” Cas gave him a wink, and moved past to the stove, stirring the sauce and turning down the temperature to a simmer. “Now, we have about forty-five minutes to kill. Whatever shall we do?”

“It's Monday night, the new Dr. Sexy is on at eight, which gives us just about an hour,” Dean hedged, but his eyes widened as Cas stalked towards him. Cas pinned him against the island, and Dean melted under his touch again, pliant and waiting. 

“I did say I was going to fuck you when we got home…” Cas reminded him in a whisper against his throat, and Dean shivered. 

“What are you waiting for then, Cas? A formal invitation?” Dean teased, and gasped when Cas nipped at his throat lightly.

“Maybe I'm waiting for you to ask nicely, Dean,” Cas rasped, and Dean whimpered, stumbling slightly as his knees wobbled. Cas caught his pet around the waist, their bodies slotting together and Cas groaned against Dean's throat. 

“Please, Mr. Novak,” Dean murmured in a husky purr in Cas' ear, “Won’t you fuck me, sir? Please, bend me over the counter, and fuck me hard.”

An honest-to-god growl was ripped from Cas' throat as he spun Dean and tore his pants from his hips, his questing fingers finding him already lubed. “Condom. Dean, fuck, we need a condom.”

“I'm clean. You told me you are, too, and I want you to come in me,” Dean told him over his shoulder, and Cas felt his cock jump at the thought of feeling Dean with nothing between them. 

“Oh fuck. Yes!” Cas ground out, then lined up and sank in slowly, shouting as his cock was enveloped in Dean's scalding, tight hole. “Dean! Dean, tell me when I can move, my pet.”

Dean whimpered as Cas held himself still, then rolled his hips forward before slamming them back. Cas found himself holding Dean's hips in a bruising grip as he fucked into him, sweat dripping from him onto Dean's back. Cas bent to kiss his way along Dean's spine, and Dean moaned as he rocked under his thrusts, one hand bracing himself on the counter, the other stroking his cock furiously. Cas groaned, climbing to his release at a dizzying pace, until he was shouting as he came, spurting into Dean in a scalding wave. He froze, his body tightening, and Dean whimpered as Cas held still, riding out his orgasm.

“Caaasssss,” he groaned, still stroking himself, then gasping softly as Cas pulled free. Cas quickly dipped his fingers into Dean's hole, then smeared Dean's cock with his spunk.

“Fuck me, Dean,” Cas ordered, spinning then around to the opposite counter so he was face down. “Fuck me, now!”

Dean apparently needed no further encouragement, and Cas felt a wave of bliss wash over him as Dean slid home, then started thrusting frantically. Cas shouted as Dean nailed his prostate, and Dean seemed to take that as encouragement, locking his hands on Cas' hips to hold him still as he pounded into him again and again. Cas found himself on the verge of another orgasm, though his cock wasn't more than half-hard.

“Fuck, Dean, right there!” Cas cried out, then Dean was clutching at his shoulder and hip, driving him against the counter as Cas came again, splashing over the cupboard and floor. “Oh fuck, Dean, so fucking good, baby…”

With a final thrust Dean stilled against him, balls deep as he pulsed into Cas, who groaned at the hot splash of come deep into him.

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean was breathless against his back. “We're gonna need a blacklight in here to clean up.”

Cas huffed a laugh, reaching for the roll of paper towels before him. “Next time we'll have to have a plug ready so I can get to the shower without dripping everywhere.”

Dean dropped his head against Cas' shoulder blade with a groan and shook his head. “You’re trying to kill me. I know it,” he muttered.

“Nah, necrophilia doesn’t do it for me. What, you like the idea of my tight little ass holding in a plug, keeping your come in me?” Cas felt Dean’s cock throb inside him, and gave a low, rasping purr as he ground back against him. “Guess so. Maybe next time. Meanwhile, we gotta deal with dinner.”

Dean took the paper towels from him and slowly pulled out, muttering a low  _ fuck _ as the come started dripping down Cas' thigh. He wiped it up gently, then pulled Cas' pants back up over his hips. Cas turned in his arms and they kissed softly, tenderly, completely at odds with the nearly violent passion that overcame them when they had sex. Dean brushed Cas' hair back from his forehead with gentle fingers and laid his cheek against his temple, cuddling him close. 

“Go on, pet. Go have a shower, I’ll finish dinner. It’ll be about--” Cas glanced at the timer “--seven minutes til the squash comes out, but I’ll need another five or so for it to cool and to assemble the rest.” Dean kissed him again softly, then padded out of the room on bare feet, and Cas moved about quietly, cleaning up the mess with bleach wipes he found under the sink. He was just washing his hands when the oven timer went off, and he pulled the squash from the oven and set it aside to cool slightly before stirring the sauce and grating fresh parmesan. 

He scooped the sauce into each half of the squash and topped each with cheese, then set the plates on the far side of the island at the breakfast nook, where he and Dean had eaten their meals when they weren't sitting in front of the tv. Dean appeared as he was opening a bottle of wine, and raised his eyebrows in question.

“What’s the occasion, Cas?” he asked softly as he fetched a couple wine glasses.

“Firstly, who needs an occasion for a good red?” he grinned, and Dean picked up the thread of the conversation.

“Secondly, it’s not every day I ask the love of my life to move in with me.” Dean said it jokingly, but Cas caught his chin gently and tilted his head to look at him, and found Dean blinking back tears.

“The love of your life, am I?” Cas whispered, and Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat before nodding.

“I have never felt this way before, Cas. And I never will again. You’re it for me.” Dean told him softly.

Cas found himself enfolded in Dean’s embrace, the warmth in his chest expanding until he thought his heart might explode.  _ Mine. I’ve got everything with him. He's truly perfect. _

They sat at the breakfast nook and dug into their dinner. Cas laughed at the moan of pleasure Dean gave at the first bite. “Cas, this is fuckin’ awesome.”

“And it has fewer carbs than pasta, plus that was turkey sausage, so lower fat than pork. Still fits into your weekday versus weekend rules,” Cas teased lightly, earning him a grin from Dean, who raised his glass in salute.

“Next you’ll tell me this is grape juice,” he cracked, taking a sip, his eyes widening in appreciation of the flavour.

“That? Nah, that’s a bottle of $10 wine from a winery in Mexico.”

“You’re shitting me,” Dean exclaimed, taking another, slower sip.

“Nope! Not bad, huh?” Cas grinned. They spoke of inconsequentialities, and then Cas broached the topic that had been hovering in his mind. “About work…”

Dean tensed, then sighed, setting down his fork and wiping his mouth. “I have an idea about that. We go straight--” Cas snorted, throwing him a wink, while Dean continued “--over Adler’s head and talk to Samuel.”

Cas stared at him in disbelief. “Samuel. You want us to go to Samuel Campbell, the almost never seen CEO? How are we supposed to even get a meeting with him?”

“Yeah, about that. I told you my brother's name, right?” Dean sidestepped the question, rubbing at his neck and glancing away.

“Sammy, right?” Cas asked, having another drink. 

“Yup. Named for our mom's dad. I was named after our grandma, Deanna Campbell.”

“You're the CEO's grandson. What are you doing working in the middle of nowhere?”

“First off, I found you here, so I'm quite happy with this little section of nowhere. But secondly, earning my way. Sammy's a homicide cop like our dad was, Mom died twenty years ago, and my cousins are vying for kiss-ass of the year award with the old man,” Dean snorted in derision. “I've never asked him for anything, even though I could have been handed a role on the board of directors. I applied for this job, and got it on my own merit. He didn't even know until I was nominated for a sales award and Sammy mentioned it at Christmas dinner.”

“You've never asked him for anything… but now?” Cas stared at him, feeling his eyes widen.

Dean reached across the corner of the table and took Cas' hand. “I'll ask him for this. If it doesn't pan out, Zar owes me a huge favour, and I think you'd like him, so we could see if you got along as his assistant instead.”

Cas squeezed his hand, smiling softly. “I'd rather not. Now that you're mine, I don't want to let you out of my sight,” he said with a sly smile and a wink. "Besides, Charlie enjoys being Balthazar's assistant."

“No need to be jealous, I only have eyes for you, babe,” Dean replied with a saucy grin, and dug into his food again. “I'll call Granddad tomorrow from the office for a meeting. That way he knows it's work related.”

Cas ate his dinner thoughtfully, pouring them each a little more wine. Having settled for the moment the issue of work, they talked about movies and music, books, their families, concerts they'd been to. They finished their meal, and Dean took care of the dishes while Cas had a quick shower. When he came out of the bathroom, Dean was sitting up in bed, reading. Cas crossed the room to bend and press a kiss to his lips. He went to the wardrobe and found a pair of his pyjama pants, dropping his towel and pulling them on. Scooping up the towel and giving it a last pass over his hair, Cas slung it over a hook on the bathroom door. 

Turning, Cas found Dean’s eyes on him, and watched in amusement as he flushed and looked away. “Something wrong?” Cas asked softly, kneeling on the end of the bed and crawling up it.

“No, just admiring my view,” Dean replied, a cocky smile on his face as he eyed Cas up and down. Cas didn’t stop the low chuckle that escaped him, and crawled up the bed towards his prey. “Cas? What are you up to?” 

“Nothing, pet. Read your book,” he prompted, then ducked under the blankets. There was a soft sound of surprise from Dean as Cas slid down his body. Then Cas was gently taking his cock in his mouth, carefully keeping his teeth away from the soft flesh. Dean gave a yelp above him and squirmed a bit, but when Cas simply held still, Dean took a deep, shuddering breath and picked up his book again. Cas stroked his hands lightly over Dean’s thighs, soothing him with his touch, his cheek resting against Dean’s hip. After a few minutes Cas felt a gentle hand touch his hair, slowly petting down the nape of his neck, and he closed his eyes in bliss, humming softly in pleasure. 

Dean tensed slightly, hissing above him, and Cas nuzzled against the hairs at the base of his cock. He pulled back carefully, and laid a firm hand over Dean’s hip. “Hush, pet,” he instructed, then took his cock back into his mouth, noticing it was definitely plumper than before. He rested on Dean’s hip again, coaxing him to relax with gentle strokes along his hip and thigh, but Dean’s breathing hitched all the same, and his cock swelled in Cas' mouth. Cas huffed a laugh through his nose, and the blankets were flipped back suddenly, leaving him blinking in the sudden brightness. 

“Cas,  _ please,” _ Dean pleaded, his eyes dark with lust as he stared down the length of his body at his lover.

Cas slid off again, but this time, he dragged his tongue along the length, flicking it over the head and sucking lightly on the tip, and Dean’s head fell back among the pillows. “What did you want, Dean?”

“Don’t tease, Cas, please. You feel so good. If you’re not in the mood, I get it, but please, don’t tease me like this.”

“Who said I wasn’t in the mood?” Cas asked with a wicked smile, then swallowed Dean down, his hands busily playing with his nipples, sending Dean arching off the bed with a cry. Cas squirmed around until Dean’s legs were over his shoulders, and scraped his nails down his sides lightly, his thumbs circling his hip bones. Dean quaked under his hands and mouth, and Cas popped off his cock to lap at his balls, sucking on them carefully, toying with Dean until he was whimpering, a quivering mess.

Dean was shaking underneath him, and Cas eased back, kissing softly at his inner thigh, nibbling at the tender skin, then switched abruptly to the other leg and sucked hard, riding Dean’s body as he thrust blindly upward, his hands reaching, clutching in Cas' hair. 

_ “Please Cas, baby, oh fuck!” _ he babbled, and Cas licked a stripe from the base of his cock, down over his balls, and circled his rim before plunging his tongue into Dean’s body, fucking it into him until he was begging to be filled.

Cas crawled up his body, kissing him thoroughly. Dean’s hands still locked in his hair, his hips wrapped around Cas' waist. Cas reached for the bedside table, found the lube, and slicked his cock quickly. He plunged a finger inside Dean and drew another string of curses from him as he thrust it in and out, spreading lube and tugging lightly at his rim. Cas wiped his finger on his pants which sat around his thighs, then kicked them loose. He lined up and pressed against Dean’s rim, then stopped.

“Dean, are you ready?” he asked softly, and Dean whined against his throat before turning his head and biting down hard on the muscle over Cas' collarbone. Cas tensed with a hiss, then gradually, inexorably slid home, until his balls were resting against Dean’s ass. He drew back slowly, and thrust in again in a smooth roll, and Dean cried out beneath him, his hands clutching at Cas' back, his nails digging in, marking him. 

Cas tensed again, heat spiking in his core at the light flare of pain down his back, and he let out a growl as he splayed out his knees, giving himself leverage to drive into his lover, but keeping it slow, a deep rolling grind that had Dean panting beneath him. “Oh god, Cas! Feels so good, don’t stop!”

Cas bit his earlobe lightly, murmuring soft encouragement as he rocked into him, Dean’s hands sliding down his back to clutch at his ass desperately, pulling him hard, trying to drive him faster. Cas kept to the achingly slow roll, kissed his way down Dean’s throat to his jaw, then captured his lips in a breathless, passionate kiss.

Dean melted under him, his hands sliding back up into his hair, caressing and soft, and Cas slowed his thrusts further, gentling them both as the quiet sounds of their lovemaking filled the bedroom. He kissed Dean lightly, trailing from his lips to his jaw, down over his pulse.

“Dean…  _ Dean.”  _ Cas could feel his release approaching, and reached between them to wrap his hand around Dean’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts, driving him on towards his release even as he chased his own, until Dean lost rhythm with him, crying out as his hands tightened in Cas' hair. That edge of pain ran down Cas' spine and pooled in his gut as an electric heat, and he flew over the edge with a sigh of Dean’s name.

“Mmm, Cas…” Dean whispered, his voice low and husky. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Glad you think so,” Cas teased, kissing him softly, nipping at his lip until he opened with a soft chuckle and their tongues twined around each other, their mouths slanted together in a perfect fit. Eventually his cock softened and slipped from Dean, and both men drew back with a grimace of distaste. Cas chuckled, and bent to kiss Dean softly again. “Be right back.” 

He headed across the room to the bathroom and grabbed his still-damp towel from the hook on the door, returning to carefully wipe it over Dean’s stomach, then between his legs and gently over his hole. Dean shivered lightly at the touch, then took the towel from Cas and, finding a clean corner, wiped over his stomach and down over his cock. Cas chucked the towel at the hamper in the corner and fell into bed with his lover, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. Dean rested his head on Cas' chest and they fell asleep in each others’ arms, not even managing to turn off the light.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***NSFW ART***

Dean woke up first the following morning, blinking in the light from his lamp as well as that seeping beneath the blackout curtains. He stretched carefully, feeling Cas shift against his back, and winced as his body protested the movement. A hot shower was definitely needed. He rolled to face his lover and bent to kiss him softly, smiling against his lips as his eyes opened to reveal a thoroughly grumpy expression.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty. C'mon. If you want us to stop by and see your friend Meg, we should get moving. Come have a shower with me.”

Cas rolled swiftly, pulling Dean over him, and chuckled in his raspy morning voice. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean swallowed a moan as he felt Cas' morning wood against his own and managed a relatively coherent, “Hey, Cas.” He bent and pressed his lips to Cas', his tongue tracing the seam of Cas' lips lightly, and he felt him smile as he opened for him. They kissed sweetly and slow for a few minutes, then Dean pulled back slightly, pressing his forehead to Cas'. 

“C'mon babe, let's have that shower. We both need to clean up after last night.” He tugged Cas upright as he stood, pulling him to his feet even as he grumbled about the hour. Dean chuckled softly, even as he led Cas to the bathroom and started the water. “Your alarm had to have gone off before mine when you were catching the bus. No way you were lazing about the way I do.”

Cas gave him a grouchy look and stepped under the spray, adjusting the temperature until steam started to fill the room. He stood, letting the water wash over him for several long moments, and Dean chuckled softly at his lover's adorably grumpy morning demeanour. He set his hands on his hips, pulling him close, and started kissing over the nape of his neck. Cas melted back against him, their bodies touching from neck to knee, and Dean reached around slowly to grasp his lover's cock. Cas let out a soft groan and turned in his arms, blindly seeking his lips for a desperate kiss as his hands slid down Dean's body to stroke him gently. They traded lazy handjobs, kissing each other messily as the water poured over them. Cas came with a grunt against Dean's throat, then redoubled his efforts to get Dean off, which didn't take him long at all.

Dean soaped up Cas' hair, massaging it through and tilting his head back to rinse it away. Cas melted under his hands, a low sigh escaping his lips. He opened his eyes, and Dean found himself pinned by his cerulean stare as he poured shampoo into his palm and reached to slowly work it through Dean's hair. His thumbs pressed in small circles over his temples, his fingers moving slowly down to the nape of his neck, and Dean dropped his forehead to Cas' shoulder with a contented sigh. 

“Let’s just stay home today. Let’s just go back to bed and stay there all day, and you can make love to me again the way you did last night,” he murmured, Cas' warm chuckle sending sparks through him.

Cas laid gentle fingers on his chin and pushed him upright, grinning at him, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Tell you what. We get off work at a reasonable hour tonight, we’ll pick up something on the way home, and I’ll make love to you for hours. But I made Meg a promise, and you need to call Samuel today. And we both know that wouldn’t happen if I took you back to bed now. Besides, it’d be hard to convince him of our work ethic if we started skipping work to have sex the first week we’re together.”

“Ugh, there you go being all responsible and shit. Alright, fine. Let’s get going so we can hit the bakery. I dunno why she wants to meet me again, I’ve been in there before,” Dean commented, and Cas shrugged.

“She said she wanted to see us together. I decided not to ask,” Cas explained.

Dean groaned. "Alright, alright. We’d better get going then. If she really wants an eyeful, wear those suspenders, they are so hot, babe.”

Cas pulled Dean in for a passionate kiss that left him breathless, then nipped at his earlobe with a husky whisper. “And I’m sure you had no plans to stare at me all day with the way the suspenders cinch my pants up to show off my ass…”

Dean stepped closer, crowding Cas against the tiles and pressed close, slotting his thigh between Cas' thick runner’s legs. They ground against each other slowly, neither caring that it wasn’t going anywhere, the gentle intimacy heating Dean’s blood with a slow, liquid warmth. Cas nipped and sucked lightly at his throat, and Dean moaned under his touch. He was reaching to fist his hands in Cas' hair when the temperature dropped abruptly, and suddenly they were jolted from their sensuous haze to scramble for the water.

Cas let out a breathless laugh, and pulled Dean in for one last kiss before stepping out to grab a towel. He tossed one to Dean and quickly began getting ready for the workday. Sooner than he’d have thought possible, Dean was pulling up in front of the bakery, and trying to find a parking spot.

“There’s a lot around the corner, or we have enough time, we could just park at work and walk back here,” Cas suggested, and Dean nodded. 

“No way I’m trying to squeeze Baby into some tiny lot, and the walk will do us good, considering the baked goods in there.” A second later, he jumped as Cas reached over and groped him lightly, then smiled innocently when Dean stared at him in shock.

“Have you got a complaint about the cardio you’ve been getting lately?” he asked, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Can’t say I do, but general rule, no groping the driver, I don’t wanna drive Baby into something.”

“Uh huh,” Cas teased. “You realize you call _ me _ ‘baby’ when you’re about to come?”

“I do not! Do I?” he asked, looking embarrassed, and Cas grinned at his discomfiture.

“You absolutely do. Why, do you equate your car with sex? Are we going to have to find some secluded place for me to drop to my knees outside the back seat and suck you off?” Cas' voice dropped a register as he spoke, his fingers trailing over the back of Dean’s neck as Dean slammed the brakes and threw it into park before sliding across the bench and pinning Cas to the door.

“Cas…” he growled, his voice low and desperate, and Cas gave a throaty chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a yes. C’mon, the bakery awaits, and we have a full day at work before I can take you home and have my way with you.” Dean looked him in the eye and groaned at the lusty amusement there, then his eye was caught by movement outside the car. Two cars over stood Alastair, watching them with a strange look on his face. Dean froze against Cas, who glanced over his shoulder and tensed. Alastair gave an unsettling smile and Cas watched him walk past to the office building with a fierce glare. Dean watched as Cas slowly looked back to him, a possessive look in his eyes. “You’re mine, Dean. I don’t trust him, and he can’t have you.”

Dean snorted, and pressed closer for a kiss. “As if he had a chance. He really doesn’t. C’mon, let’s hit the bakery and get to work. I still need to call Granddad.”

***

Cas took Dean’s hand as they walked and watched as a faint blush coloured his cheeks, highlighting his freckles. Dean cast him a shy glance, then bumped his shoulder as they walked the few blocks back to the bakery hand in hand. Cas grinned at him, his anger over Alastair fading, though he was determined to keep an eye out. He held the door open for Dean who winked at him as he strode in, and Cas stepped to his side as they waited in line. Dean’s hand found the small of his back, sliding under the band of his suspenders, and Cas slipped his hand under Dean’s jacket, caressing his hip lightly. Their eyes met and for a long minute they simply stared into each other’s eyes, heat building between them until Cas felt he might combust if he didn’t let some of it out. He took a firmer grip on Dean’s hip, preparing to pull him close for a kiss--

“Clarence!” came a shout from behind the counter, and Cas froze an inch from Dean’s lips, feeling his face heat in embarrassment. He slid his arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him to the counter, noticing Meg’s dark eyes snapping with the amusement that curved her lips. “The usual order? So, this is the pecan pie, I take it.”

Dean grinned, and cocked his head at her. “Does that make Cas the honey cruller?”

Meg smirked, and allowed her eyes to travel over Cas slowly. “Deep fried, delicious, sticky enough to leave you licking your fingers, and very bad for you? Your boyfriend, not mine, so I wouldn’t know.” She wrapped up her description with a sly glance at Dean, and Cas found him blushing again.

Dean threw his head back and let out a ringing shout of laughter, turning heads in the small shop without shame or even noticing. Cas noticed though, and gave a smug smile. This gorgeous man was _ his. _

Cas nodded with a smile, “Yes, the usual please. And how exactly do you think I’m bad for him?” he teased.

“His ability to walk straight, for one. Or was he always that bow-legged?” She subjected Dean to the same slow elevator stare, and Cas pulled Dean against his side, feeling him settle against him easily, though his cheeks reddened again at the teasing. 

“I'm not _ that _ bow-legged!” Dean insisted. Cas gave a low, amused chuckle as he leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“You think you can wrap around my waist like that because you _ aren't? _ I beg to differ.” Cas laid a gentle kiss against his cheek even as Dean flushed scarlet.

“Oh, Clarence, he is cute. Coffee’s on the house, the donut and muffin come to 3.27.” Meg quickly cashed him out and winked when he told her to keep the change. 

“Cas, did you lure me in there for free coffee?” Dean accused as soon as they were out of the shop, and Cas grinned at him.

“Yup, and I managed to negotiate up to coffee for both of us for the month, so no complaints about being abused,” Cas teased, earning a frown from Dean. 

“You know I have an expense account that can be used for this shit, right?” he complained, and Cas took his hand and raised it to kiss his knuckles gently.

“Sorry, pet. I guess I wanted to show you off.”

Dean shrugged, his expression shifting to one of embarrassed confusion. “Okay, I get that, but now… now she knows I--” He cut himself off, blushing again, and Cas pulled him to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“What, that you like bottoming?” Dean blushed furiously again, and Cas shook his head, laughing softly. “Considering the male g-spot, anyone who hasn't at least tried it once is missing out. There's no shame in pleasure Dean, or in having preferences. Or are you saying you'd rather only top from now on?”

“No!” Dean nearly shouted, grumbling when Cas chuckled at his emphatic--and loud--response.

Cas pulled him tightly into his arms, lining their bodies up from their chests to their knees. He kissed Dean once slowly, then moved to murmur in his ear. “Do you want me to stop fingering you? Or tongue-fucking you, for that matter?”

Dean shivered against him, his eyes closing of their own volition, then slanted his mouth over Cas' in a passionate kiss. Whistles and catcalls pulled them back to where they stood, and Cas smiled against Dean's lips. 

“Come on, Mr. Winchester. We need to get to work.” Cas tugged him into motion and they walked back to the office, arriving a few minutes before Cas' shift. They settled in at their respective desks with matching smiles, and worked steadily through the morning.

It was approaching noon when the mail arrived. Cas sorted through it easily, setting aside the items Dean needed to deal with personally. He knocked on the door frame and Dean waved him in, indicating he should close the door.

“Hey Granddad, it's Dean.”

***

_ “Dean, to what do I owe the pleasure?” _ Samuel replied dryly over speakerphone, in that tone Dean could never be sure was sarcastic or not. _ “You'll be coming for Sunday dinner, won't you? Your grandmother's been asking.” _

“I will, and bringing someone for you to meet as well. But that isn't why I called. What's the company policy on dating within the office? There's no conflict of interest, I only have one assistant, I can't fudge his numbers without the discrepancy being reflected in my own, and it's completely consensual. But is this going to cause grief for the company? We'd rather not, but I can ask Zar to take Cas on and I could take on Charlie.”

_ “No, Zar's enough trouble, leave Charlie with him. She knows what to watch for and won't be charmed by him. Alright, your assistant is Castiel Novak, correct?” _ The sound of typing indicated his granddad was on his computer, which meant the question was academic. There was no way he knew Cas' last name off the cuff. _ “I'm assuming that's who you'll be bringing for Sunday dinner. Have you told your brother yet, or planning on surprising him?” _

“No, I'll introduce him to Sammy before then, if I can. You know how he is, though, this case is keeping him pretty tied up. We might have to get arrested just to say hi!”

A snort of laughter sounded through the phone. _ “Considering your brother is in homicide, I'd rather not be posting bail for that particular call. Listen, you're in the clear, and anyone who complains is free to reach out to my office. Since you're bringing him for dinner, I take it this is serious.” _

“Granddad, he made Adler look like an ass and was completely professional while he did it. I might marry him by the weekend,” Dean announced with a wink thrown in Cas' direction, and Cas burst out laughing even as a chuckle came through the phone.

_ “In that case, allow me to be the first to welcome you to the family, Cas.” _

“Thank you, sir, I appreciate it. Now if I may intrude, Mr. Winchester, don't forget you have a meeting at 12:45, and another at 2, so if you want a bite to eat…”

Another hoarse chuckle echoed through the phone._ “Already taking care of him. Good, he needs it. We'll see you at the house on Sunday.” _

Cas mouthed _ “the house?” _ with his eyebrows raised, and Dean winked. “See you then Granddad. Say hi to Grandma please!”

The dial tone sounded, announcing the end of the call, and Dean stepped past Cas to lock the door. Cas gave his lover a questioning look with one brow raised, and Dean shivered at the promise in that stare. 

“What's on your mind, Dean?” Cas asked, his voice husky and low.

“Just that I'm not all that hungry. I was hoping you might be though,” he suggested, undoing his belt slowly. Dean reached for his button and zipper, and Cas caught his hands, stilling him. 

“Dean,” he said quietly, but sternly. “Use your words if you want something.”

Dean shuddered, his heart rate increasing in anticipation. “Yes, sir. Please, sir. I've been thinking about what you said since we were on the sidewalk. I need…” He broke off, staring at the floor and fidgeting.

Cas nodded encouragingly. “Go on, Dean, you're doing so well.”

“I want you to tongue-fuck me,” Dean finally whispered, blushing furiously even as he basked in Cas' approval.

“Good.” Cas stood, stripping his tie, and tossing it onto the desk, then stalked over to kiss Dean thoroughly. Spinning him suddenly, he undid his slacks and hauled them down, then bent Dean over the desk. Sitting in Dean's chair, he wheeled closer and spread his cheeks, and ran his tongue over him in a broad stripe, diving in between his cheeks with no hesitation. Dean barely stifled a yell, and suddenly Cas was pressing his own tie between his lips, and Dean bit down on the silk gratefully, his head jerking back as Cas pulled the end of the tie tight. “Reach back and hold your cheeks open, Dean. My hands are going to be _ very _busy.” 

Dean whimpered against the makeshift gag, and still nearly managed to bite his own tongue when two spit-slick fingers pressed into him as a hot tongue circled his hole. His cock was rock hard and caught against the end of his desk, pointing down at the floor, and Dean fought not to rub against it. Instinctively he knew Cas wouldn't want him to move, and he shook as he tried to stay still. Cas' tongue drove into him and his slicked fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly as his tongue drove him wild. Over and over it plunged into him, lapping in circles and soaking his rim, then fucking into him and sucking the next, stretching him then tracing over his hole lightly. All the while Cas' fingers circled and teased at his cock, rubbing under the sensitive ridge, playing with the shaft, squeezing just shy of too hard, leaving Dean breathless as he waited for the next touch. 

Cas sat back suddenly, leaving his hands on the makeshift leash the only contact, and Dean couldn't stop the low whine that escaped him. “Dean,” Cas scolded, his voice low and amused, and Dean could nearly see the little sideways smirk that Cas wore when being particularly devilish. “You said you wanted me to tongue-fuck you. Did you ask me to get you off?” 

Dean whimpered, shaking his head, tears springing to his eyes at the thought of being brought to the brink and left unfulfilled. Cas clucked his tongue behind him, and the chair creaked underneath him as he rolled, closer, Dean thought. When next he spoke, his breath ghosted over his skin, hot and damp.

“Do you want to get off, Dean?” he murmured, and Dean nodded frantically, glancing back over his shoulder. Cas sat a mere inch away, and even as Dean watched, his eyes fell shut and he bit his lip, and Dean felt a bolt of arousal at the sight. “That's my pet.”

Cas wrapped his tie around his fist and tugged Dean's head back again, and plunged his tongue back against Dean's hole, thrusting past the tight ring of muscle even as he moaned and hummed against his skin. Dean went wild. He bucked underneath his lover, trying to thrust back against him, but Cas simply pinned his hips to the desk with his broad hands and went back to work. At some point Dean’s phone was knocked off the hook, and the dial tone echoed through the office along with Dean’s muffled cries. 

Dean was quivering on the edge when Cas pulled back next, and couldn’t contain the broken sob, though the gag stifled the sound. His blood was roaring in his ears, but he thought he heard… heard… oh _ fuck! _ His thoughts fractured as Cas thrust into him suddenly, the nearly forgotten sound of a zipper coming back to him as his lover pounded into him over and over, spit-slicked and hot. Cas' fingers interlaced with his as he fucked him, and together they stroked Dean over the edge even as Cas stiffened and shot his load deep inside him. Cas pulled back abruptly and there was a thunk as he dropped to his knees. Dean was still shaking with aftershocks of his orgasm as his lover lapped over his leaking, gaping hole, licking up the come dripping from him. A moment later his boxers and his slacks were back in place and Cas was gently doing up his fly and his belt, the tie removed from his mouth and he was being pulled into Cas' arms, where he melted against his lover as he rocked him slowly. He was vaguely aware that Cas was wiping up the come from the side of his desk with his own tie, and chuckled softly.

“My pet. You did so well, Dean,” Cas whispered against his ear, the sudden silence as he replaced the phone on the hook nearly deafening. “Next time you’ll know what to say, won’t you?”

Dean nodded against his throat, limp and floating in the aftermath. “Yes, sir. Thank you for teaching me, sir.” He glanced up and saw again that blissed out look as Cas' eyes shut and he bit his lip.

“So good for me. And all mine, aren’t you, Dean?”

“All yours. Only yours, forever.”


	9. Chapter 9

Cas sat at his desk, riding a high of sex and satisfaction as Dean sat in his office, shifting occasionally and blushing red each time he did. The door to the hall opened and Zar waltzed in with his typical vee-neck shirt and fitted slacks, and he paused in the doorway, his eyes wide. 

“Well, well, moving up the ladder of success, are we, Cassie?” he teased, and Cas, who remembered Zar from his training, simply flipped the other man the bird before sticking his head into his boss’s office.

“Zar’s here to see you. I’m going for a coffee run. Want another? Zar? Coffee?”

“Tea, please, love. Ta,” the Brit replied, and Cas smirked. 

“Could you please try to be more of a stereotype?” Cas retorted, and Zar returned with a rude gesture of his own.

“Alright you two. Zar, be glad the old man okayed Cas staying with me, you two would never get any work done with all the sniping you do. And yes, Cas, I’d love another coffee, please. Say hi to Meg for me,” he grinned, and Cas chuckled.

He quickly left the office and walked the three blocks to the bakery, placing the order with the addition of a tea for Zar, and an extra coffee for Charlie. Watching Meg flirt with everyone, a disturbing possibility occurred to him. When the crowd lulled for a moment, he cornered her.

“You’re a flirt, and I know you’ve seen Dean in here before. Did you send him a secret admirer card?” he asked, his brow drawn down as he confronted the brunette.

“What’s the matter Clarence, can’t handle a little competition?” she asked, her dark eyes challenging. 

Hot liquid splashed over his hand as he crushed the coffee cup he held, and he snarled at the woman. “He’s mine, back off.”

She rolled her eyes and handed him a stack of napkins, pouring a replacement coffee without a word. “Touchy touchy. I didn’t send anything. Someone trying to encroach on your territory?”

“Not if they know what’s good for them,” he grumbled, wiping off his hand, ignoring the reddened skin where the scalding coffee had splashed him.

Meg chuckled darkly. “Naughty naughty, Clarence, your claws are showing.”

He smiled, unamused. “I haven’t even started to show them yet. Thanks for the coffee.” Heading back to the office he stopped by to chat with Zar’s assistant Charlie, who professed her undying platonic love and gratitude for the caffeine fix, then tried to sucker him into a weekend of LARPing. Used to it, he laughed her off and told her his free time was tied up for the next while.

“I’ll bet. Weren’t you wearing a tie this morning at the staff meeting?” she asked, her eyes dancing.

“Mmm,” he made an affirmative noise as he took a sip of his coffee. “Got a bit of something on it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you did. The wall between your man’s office and the photocopy room is pretty thin. Just an FYI,” she winked, and Cas grinned.

“I’d better get back. Is Zar still over there or do I leave his tea with you?” he asked, standing from the corner of her desk.

“Nah, he’s back here. I’ll take it to him. Lord knows if you two start snarking at each other no one will get any work done.”

“I’m not that bad,” Cas protested, though privately he knew otherwise. 

“Yeah right. Get outta here, some of us have work to do,” she said with a teasing grin, shooing him away from her desk. Cas wandered back down the hall past the photocopier room, and sticking his head in there, he could in fact hear Dean on his phone. Not good for company privacy, and he resolved to mention it. A fresh stack of mail was on his desk when he got back to their office, and he set his coffee down to collect the pile and take Dean his drink.

Leaving the door between their offices open, he knocked lightly on the frame as Dean hung up his phone call. “Hello, Mr. Winchester. Here’s your coffee, and I’ve got more mail here. Just so you’re aware, I happened to stick my head into the photocopy room and could hear part of your phone conversation. You may wish to have your office walls redone for sound absorption.” Cas walked to the desk, blocking the view of his lover from anyone who might enter the outer office, and grinned down at Dean, who was blushing scarlet for the fifth time that day.

“Um, yeah, I’ll have to look into that. Thanks for the heads up. What have you got for me for mail?” he asked, scrubbing his hand over his face and looking away in embarrassment.

“Dean,” Cas murmured softly, quietly enough to avoid being heard more than a few feet away, and those green eyes met his again. Cas let the affection he felt for him show on his face, and Dean broke into a shy smile, taking the stack of envelopes and inter-office mail from him. He stood abruptly and leaned across the desk, kissing Cas gently, and moaned softly against his lips.

“You know what you taste like, Cas?” he whispered. “Coffee. Coffee, and me, and you. And fuck that’s hot. Let’s get our work done, I want to get you home again.” Cas let out a low growl, and Dean’s pupils widened even as he leaned in for another kiss. “Hold that thought, lover.”

Cas chuckled softly, and threw Dean a cheeky wink, wandering back to his office in high spirits. He resolved to forget about the secret admirer note. It was probably from a client who didn’t dare speak up anyway. 

Anyway, Dean was his, and one thing he didn’t do was share.

***

The rest of the week passed quickly, though Dean was disappointed to find out that Sam wouldn’t be able to meet Cas that weekend at all. His homicide case was heating up, and he was working overtime constantly, until Dean threatened to stop by the precinct to do the intros between his brother and his assistant-turned-lover. Sammy grumbled that no one needed those details, and swore that the following weekend would be it, they’d make or break the case by then, having finally identified the John Doe that had remained the missing bit of information. They were still searching for next of kin, so his ID hadn’t been released yet, but Sam told him privately that his name had been Henry, and they were looking for a woman named Abigail Dawn.

Cas charmed his grandma completely, and Granddad generally followed her lead. Dean sometimes caught a hint of steel in his grandfather, and wondered what he might have been like without his wife as a gentling influence. He decided quickly he’d rather not think about it. Cas sat and chatted with both his grandparents, telling innocently amusing stories of Dean at work, of his care while Cas himself had been ill, of the little potted plant that was flourishing on his desk.

“Things are blooming all over, aren’t they, then?” Deanna asked, casting a glance between the two, and Dean took Cas' hand unabashedly. 

“Absolutely.” The two men shared a private smile, and Dean startled when she spoke again.

“Dean, you still haven’t told your brother, you need to do that,” she scolded, but in a loving way. Dean tensed, but Cas laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Dean. I can understand not wanting to come out to him by text, and he hasn’t had time for even a brief call. Your grandparents already knew because of that fiasco with Adler harassing you, but Sam was still in the academy when it happened, wasn’t he?”

“Ugh, don't even mention Adler, I'll lose my dinner,” Dean complained, pressing one hand to his stomach as though queasy. “Nah, Sammy was a rookie though. He’s worked his way up fast.” Dean’s pride in his baby brother was obvious in the way he sat up straighter just at the mention of his accomplishments.

“Even so, Dean. You’ve kept quiet about it for years. Why not say something to him?” his granddad asked, shaking his head. 

“I guess I never had a reason to, 'til now.” Dean squeezed Cas' hand, hoping he’d understand, and Cas gave him an understanding smile. “We should get going, we’ve got an hour and a half drive home, and it’s getting late.”

Deanna cast a look at her husband and grinned. “Home, huh?” she teased, and Dean blushed, but met her gaze.

“Yeah, home. Cas has put in his notice with his landlord.”

“Moving a little fast there, Dean?” his granddad asked, only to be elbowed sharply in the ribs. 

“I’ll remind you that our daughter was born roughly nine months after we met. At least the boys won’t have that surprise,” Deanna sniped at her husband, whose face reflected both a fond memory, and the grief of losing their child. “They’re moving in together, so what? They’re happy, leave it alone, Samuel.”

“Yes, dear.” he murmured, and cast a wink at his oldest grandson. Next to Dean, Cas smothered a smile behind a cough as he stood, extending his hand to his grandma in a polite farewell. Dean could have told him that wouldn’t do, and Deanna stood and hugged him instead, catching him off-guard.

His granddad clapped them each on the shoulder in farewell as they left, and they started the drive home in the dark. By the time they reached the city limits over an hour later, Cas was fast asleep, and Dean chuckled softly. Cas had been putting in extra hours at the office, even staying past Dean’s occasional 7 pm, and then bussing home when Dean couldn’t convince him to call a Lyft. 

Dean pulled into their driveway and gently called his lover’s name, nudging him softly when that didn’t work. Cas startled awake with a swing of an arm, but Dean was used to this after a week in the same bed, and ducked easily.

“Jumpy, are we? I tried calling your name, don’t give me that look,” Dean teased even as he stroked a gentle hand down Cas' arm. “C’mon, we’re home, lover, let’s get inside and get you to bed.” 

Cas leaned into him as they walked up the drive, laughing sleepily. “Just one thing on your mind, isn’t there, Dean?”

“Getting you inside without having you collapse is high on the list. Having to lug you in like a corpse would probably freak out the neighbours.”

“At least your brother is in homicide, he probably knows how to get rid of a body…” Cas mumbled, his words slurring a little.

“’Cause that’s not creepy, that your thoughts went to how to hide a body,” Dean teased, leading Cas into the house and helping him out of his coat.

“S’my body, shaddup,” he scolded, then groped at Dean’s ass sleepily. “That’s mine, too.”

Dean chuckled softly, nuzzling at his throat and leading him to the bedroom. Once there he carefully stripped his lover to his boxers, and folded back the blankets. “Come to bed, Cas. In the morning you can do what you like with  _ your _ body, okay? For now, you need sleep.”

“Mmmkay… Yes sir, Mr. Winchester.” Cas murmured as Dean nudged him over, seemingly asleep as soon as he hit the pillows.

Dean wandered off for a shower, though it had gotten to the point that  _ not _ sharing the shower with Cas felt a little odd. He washed up quickly and dried his hair afterwards, then crept into the bedroom. Cas had sprawled across the bed and Dean grinned fondly down at the sleeping man. 

He crawled into bed and Cas wrapped himself around him, nuzzling against his back and doing a winning impression of an octopus, arms and legs akimbo, tangled with Dean’s until he could barely move. He snuggled in close and dropped off to sleep, feeling secure in Cas' arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean woke gradually the following morning, the soft, slow breathing against his throat telling him that he and Cas had rearranged themselves through the night. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the morning light and found Cas pillowed on his chest, one leg thrown over his legs, grinding lazily against his hip. Dean shifted and squirmed onto his side, and bent to kiss his lover, teasing at his lips until he woke and was kissing back passionately, their hips moving in a gentle give and take as they thrust together. 

Cas slotted his thigh between Dean's and rolled onto his back, pulling Dean over, and Dean found himself riding Cas' leg. Sliding a hand gently down Dean’s back as they kissed, Cas pulled him closer with a broad palm to the small of his back, encouraging Dean as he ground against him, breath catching in his throat as the heat sparked in his gut. He moaned softly, fingers trailing down to tease at the top of his cleft, and Dean arched his back, trying to coax Cas’s fingers lower. 

Cas gave a low chuckle and reached down to grasp Dean's thigh, pulling it up to hook over his hip, slipping a hand between them to take them both in hand, slicking precome down over their cocks. They each chased their release with gasps and moans, spilling between them with shuddering cries.

Dean recovered first and fetched a cloth to clean them up. He returned to find his lover stretching lazily and watching him cross the room with a heated glance down his body that made Dean want to slide back into bed and be devoured by him. Crawling back onto the bed and kneeling next to Cas, Dean trailed the cloth down Cas’ chest and over his stomach, watching his skin pebble as he went, his nipples tightening into stiff peaks that were just too tantalising to pass up. Tossing the cloth aside Dean bent to tongue at one stiffened nub while he pinched lightly at the other, and Cas groaned long and low before pulling him into a fierce kiss, rolling them both to straddle Dean's hips. 

Dean whimpered and melted underneath his lover, surrendering completely. “Mmm. Good boy, Dean. You're ready for anything I want to do to you, aren't you?” Cas spoke in a low, gravelly purr.

“Yes, oh yes, Cas. Please, anything.” Dean was begging, running his hands over his lover desperately.

“Tonight then, we need to get to work in the meantime.” He bent and kissed Dean fiercely, chuckling at the whine that escaped him. Dean knew he'd try to deny it later, but that was definitely a whine. In the moment, he could admit it. 

“What you do to me,” he murmured brokenly, his hands grasping Cas's hips in a nearly bruising grip, peppering his jaw with kisses until Cas finally captured his lips again, drowning him in sensation as their bodies rocked together until he was gasping for breath. The sudden absence of Cas pressing into him made him moan softly in disappointment, and he opened his eyes to see Cas smiling down at him from next to the wardrobe, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth in a feral smile.

Dean shivered at the predatory expression, pushing himself up on his elbows. “You're gonna kill me, Cas,” he complained, and Cas gave a low, husky laugh.

“You aren't going to die of sexual frustration, Dean,” he retorted as he got dressed slowly, making a production of it as Dean joined him, slipping into his own clothes. “If I were going to kill you though, I'd use my hands,” he finished, wrapping one broad palm lightly around Dean's throat, and Dean gulped at the sudden flare of arousal tinged with a tiny bit of fear. 

Cas's hand tightened slightly, so Dean could feel his pulse against Cas's thumb, and Dean's eyes were drawn to the way Cas licked his lips, his blue eyes dark with arousal as he watched his own hand.

_ So hot… _ Dean found his knees weak, desire pooling in his gut, his cock trying valiantly to fill again as he stood with his lover's hand around his throat. Cas's penetrating gaze swept downward, and Dean knew his body had betrayed him yet again when that sideways smile reappeared. 

“Stay home with me today, Cas. Please, I need you to-- _ oh fuck, baby _ ,” Cas's hand tightened infinitesimally, and Dean nearly buckled at the knees in arousal, his cock firmly at attention again.

“Shhh, Dean. Be good for me today, and tonight I'll show you what you're craving,” Cas rasped, his voice a husky rumble in Dean's ear.

_ “Caaaasssss!” _ Dean whined, stumbling as his lover released his throat suddenly. Cas caught him around the waist and pressed their bodies together, and Dean moaned at feeling the hard length of his cock against his thigh.  _ Fuck it, _ he thought to himself as he dropped to his knees.

“Dean,” Cas growled a warning, his hand in his hair, pulling to the edge of pain until Dean whimpered and tears sprang to his eyes before loosening his grip. 

“Cas, let me show you how good I can be for you,” Dean stared up at him, his eyes glassy with tears, his voice rough with desperation. “I need you.”

Cas's expression softened, and he slowly unzipped his fly, pulling out his flushed, weeping cock. “Open.”

Dean licked his lips once and obediently opened his mouth, then moaned as Cas thrust past his lips. He stared up at him, his shirt buttoned to his throat, a waistcoat snug about his chest and waist. His hands twitched towards his own cock, but he held himself still. This was about Cas, about pleasing him. He should have known though, that Cas would see the aborted movement and known.

“It’s okay, my pet, you can touch yourself,” Cas told him and Dean immediately pressed the heel of his palm against his cock, trying to relieve some of the pressure as he busily ran his tongue over Cas’s cock. “Are you ready for me, Dean? I’m going to fuck that sweet mouth now.”

Dean moaned around him, nodding as much as he was able, and Cas let loose. His hand stayed tangled in Dean’s hair as he snapped his hips forward, pressing almost to Dean’s throat on the first sharp thrust, and pushing deeper with every subsequent thrust until Dean was fighting his gag reflex. He gasped for breath between each hot slide, tears streaming from his eyes to slip down his cheeks, mixing with the spit and precome spilling from his mouth. Cas was groaning above him, his hands tightening in Dean’s hair as he thrust, his cock swelling and throbbing in Dean’s mouth, until with a final thrust he slid down Dean’s throat, spurting come.

Dean fought to breathe, gasping as Cas finally withdrew, his hand still pressing to his own cock. “Dean, so good for me, waiting so patiently. Let me see you come,” Cas ordered, and Dean undid his fly with trembling hands before stroking himself hard and fast. He heard himself moaning as he climbed quickly to the edge, his eyes still on Cas’s face, watching the hunger there build, until Cas spoke again. “Now, Dean.”

Dean arched back with a silent cry, his body seizing as he flew over, coming hard onto the floor, splashing Cas's foot. Cas smirked down at him, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off his foot, then carefully folded it into a square and tucked it daintily into his shirt pocket. Dean's jaw dropped, and he watched in shock as Cas tucked himself back into his pants.

“You're going to carry that around all day, aren't you? Just to torment me,” Dean accused, stumbling to his feet. 

“I would never!” Cas declared, aghast. “Not  _ just _ to torment you anyway. Part of it is my own prurient sense of gratification.”

“Pervert,” Dean teased, leaning in to kiss Cas gently. “C'mon, let's go get our free coffee from Meg.”

“Good idea. Let me just get some socks. And you, babe, need a shirt. Unless you want me to spend the day at work ravaging you. Then by all means, do without.”

“Sorry, man, company dress code definitely includes shirts.” Dean gave a snort of laughter as he reached for a pinstripe shirt and a bright red tie. Cas took the tie from him and looped it around his own collar, swiftly tying an expert knot and loosening it to slip over his head. When Dean finished with the top button Cas slid the tie around his neck and tightened it carefully, his gaze on Dean hungry and darkly possessive. Dean couldn't wait to get home and see what Cas had in store for him.

***

Cas placed his hand gently over Dean's throat again, lightly caressing over his pulse with his thumb, and watched as Dean's pupils expanded, his breath hitching in his throat. 

“That's it. Eager, aren't you?” Cas said softly, trailing his thumb over Dean's lower lip, watching in amused arousal as he opened his mouth and flicked his tongue over his thumb. 

“What can I say, Cas? I love the way you taste.” Dean glanced down his body and smiled, reaching over to adjust the handkerchief in his pocket. “Don't forget your socks.” He turned and sauntered from the room, throwing Cas a come hither glance over his shoulder. 

Cas carefully stepped around the come on the floor, grabbing a pair of socks as he sat on the edge of the bed, and thought about how to rile Dean up throughout the day.  _ This will be so much fun… _

They arrived at work, coffees from Meg's bakery in hands, and Cas chuckled as Dean grumbled about the service. Or rather, about the unsubtle flirting she threw their way, going so far as to suggest a threesome. Cas shut her down easily, reminding her that she'd always known he was gay, but also that he never shared. 

He recalled Meg's words with some anger.  _ “Shouldn't that be up to handsome here, at least in part?”  _ Only Dean's horrified expression had kept the peace. Even now he felt his blood boiling at her audacity. He’d have to remind her of the rules to staying in his good graces.

He set down his coffee and started opening the mail, the dagger-like letter opener twirling as he spun it in his hand to reverse his grip. Dean stood and watched, bemused, his coffee halfway to his mouth. Cas cocked an eyebrow at him, a slow smile curving his lips as he teasingly bit at his tongue. A soft groan escaped Dean, who fumbled for his key to his office, dropping it with a clatter. He bent to scoop them up, and Cas cleared his throat at the site of his boss's ass pointed at him. Dean stood quickly and spun, his cheeks flushed so his freckles stood out dramatically, and Cas held out the mail he'd already checked. 

“A few items for you, sir,” he murmured, only the slightest emphasis on the last word, but it was enough to make Dean smirk at him and send him a teasing wink. Cas simply raised one imperious brow at him, and watched as Dean’s cheeks flooded with colour. Cas turned back to his computer, knowing Dean’s eyes were still on him, and he carefully adjusted the soiled fabric in his breast pocket. He met Dean’s eyes again with a knowing glance, and asked innocently, “Was there anything else for the moment,  _ sir?” _

“Fucking hell,” Dean muttered, turning to his door to his office again. He managed to get the door unlocked this time, and strode to his desk, clearing his throat as he went. He fumbled the stack of mail and Cas followed him in. 

“Dean.” Cas captured his attention easily. “Calm down, Dean. Just another day at work, alright?”

“Sure it is,” Dean commented with a snort of disbelief as he knelt to collect his mail. “Except I can’t get this morning out of my mind, Cas. And I want a repeat. Fuck, I want you to take me apart at the seams.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and Cas bit his lip as he listened, a pleasurable shudder moving through his body. He looked back at his lover and found Dean’s eyes on him, hungry and desperate. Making a quick decision he turned and closed the door, locking it with a flick of his wrist. 

Cas walked back to Dean’s side and dropped to his knees, pulling him flush against his body and kissing him softly, sweetly. Dean melted against him, and Cas found himself letting out a low growl, nearly a purr. “So sweet for me, my pet. Easy, I’ll take good care of you. Do you trust me, Dean? Do you want to give yourself to me completely, until I can have you quivering with desire with just a few words?”

Dean whimpered against his throat, and bit lightly at his pulse. Cas hissed softly, pulling him tighter against him, grounding Dean against his body, his hand tugging lightly at Dean’s hair. Finally Dean leaned back and looked at him, his moss-green eyes dark with the arousal that was pressing against Cas’s hip. “You already do that,” he whispered, trembling in Cas’s arms. “Calling you sir doesn’t seem like a strong enough word. There are other people I call sir because I have to. You, I call you that because I want to. But I want a word that’s just for you.”

Cas gave a small, proud smile, and nuzzled a kiss against Dean’s temple. “Thank you, Dean. Even thinking of it means a lot to me. We can talk about it more tonight, but for now let’s get our work done.”

“Alright, Cas.” Dean leaned in and kissed him softly, chastely. “Thanks for understanding.”

Cas ran a gentle hand through Dean’s hair, then tightened it at the nape of his neck, tilting his head back to nip at his throat. 

“Of course I understand. You’re mine, and I will claim you in every way that I can, body and soul.” Cas mouthed up to his earlobe, biting harder, and Dean let out another low whine. 

“Not heart?” Dean breathed out, his words teasing even as he rocked closer. 

“I already have that, don’t I?” Cas chuckled softly, laying his hand over Dean’s chest, the rapid-fire beating of his heart lending credence to his words.

“Mastered it completely,” Dean sighed against Cas’s lips, then pulled back, licking his lips for a moment, hesitating.

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asked, running a soothing hand down his arm.

“That’s it.” Dean stood with the mail forgotten in one hand, pulling Cas to his feet and bending to his ear. His voice dropped to a husky growl.  _ “Master.” _

Cas felt a shudder run through him, and his cock thickened against Dean’s hip.  _ Oh yes. This… this is what he’d been searching for. Abject surrender.  _ “Good boy,” he breathed, controlling his impulses with an iron will. Now was not the time.

Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and his knees buckled slightly as he slumped against Cas. “Say that again,  _ please.” _

Cas let out a throaty chuckle. “You are, aren’t you? My  _ good boy, _ ” he rasped, and Dean whined against his throat. “Now, now, we have work to do. Time to work now, and time to play later. You can be good for me, can’t you? Be my good boy? I made you a promise, about tonight. Can you wait until then?”

“Caaaaasss,” Dean moaned softly at the reminder, and Cas chuckled darkly.

“You’ll have to, my pet. Security might not understand if someone found me with my hand about your throat, squeezing tighter, and tighter,” Cas dropped his voice a register, “until you were seeing stars behind your eyes, and desperate for air, desperate to come, knowing that I had control over both, and released you.”

Dean was panting and mewling against his throat, his cock twitching against his hip, and Cas pulled back half a foot, steadying him carefully and meeting his helpless, hungry gaze. Dean took a deep, shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he struggled to control himself.

“Good boy. Are you ready now, to get to work?” Cas asked softly, and Dean glanced at him through lowered lashes.

“Yes, Master,” he purred, and Cas growled softly, his cock jumping at the new title. His lips curved in a slow, twisted smile, and he pushed Dean back towards his desk gently.

“Tonight then.” He turned and strode from the office, leaving the door between them open, and found the mail had multiplied. He caught movement from the corner of his eyes, and saw Alastair heading for Zar’s office. Sighing, he worked through the pile, and then started on his email.


	11. Chapter 11

They ate lunch separately, as Cas had a lunch date with his cousin, Anna, and Dean had a meeting with Zar and Bart. Excuse me, Bartholomew, the pretentious dick. At least Zar would keep him on his toes. The man was so uptight Dean wasn’t sure why he worked; he must shit diamonds.

He also droned about his own supposed successes, when he didn’t achieve half the number of closed deals as Dean, or anything approaching Zar’s numbers either. Charlie was there to take notes, as the assistants took turns with that duty. Next time would be Cas’s turn, and Dean could only hope they could both behave with others in the room. Maybe they should get Bart’s new assistant to take notes next time, what was his name? Oh yes, Aaron. 

Thinking back to his few encounters with the young man, maybe not. Aaron tended to eye Dean in a way that made him uncomfortable. He wasn't about to suggest they spend any time together if they didn’t have to. He sighed softly and poked at the report in front of him, and Zar nudged him with an elbow. He slid a notepad over with a tic tac toe grid, and Dean resigned himself to a very long afternoon. Charlie took notes carefully, eyeing them enviously the whole while. Bart was exacting about his meeting notes, and had clearly never heard of point form.

When he was finally able to return to his office, Cas was on his lunch, and the afternoon mail had arrived. A small envelope fell to the desk as he scooped up the new items, and Dean’s heart thudded uncomfortably when he saw the neat block letters spelling out his name. He dropped the other items and quickly scooped it up, his hands shaking slightly as he carefully sliced open the envelope, absently noticing that Cas’s letter opener was sharpened far beyond what was needed for paper.

**I KNOW YOU LOVE CLASSIC ROCK. TRY THIS ONE, THOUGH IT’S A LITTLE MORE RECENT THAN YOUR USUAL FARE IN THAT CLASSIC CAR OF YOURS.**

** _“EVERY STEP YOU TAKE, _ **

** _EVERY MOVE YOU MAKE_ **

** _I’LL BE WATCHING YOU.”_ **

**MAKE SURE YOU KEEP THAT HARLOT AT THE BAKERY AWAY. YOU DON’T BELONG TO HER, OR TO THAT HONEY CRULLER, NO MATTER WHAT YOU MIGHT THINK. THE HARLOT WAS RIGHT THOUGH, HE IS BAD FOR YOU. **

**I’LL SAVE YOU FROM HIM.**

**YOUR SECRET, BUT NOT FOR MUCH LONGER, ADMIRER.**

***

Cas returned to find security and police swarming his office, and Dean sitting with Charlie’s hand on his shoulder, a coffee in his shaking hands.

“Dean?” he called from the door where a cop was preventing him from entering. “Let me in, I need to see that he’s okay! Dean!” 

Benny stepped to the door and identified him to the cop, and he slipped in and to Dean’s side. Kneeling beside him, he took the coffee from him and set it down on the floor, then rubbed at Dean’s hands.

“Dean? What happened?” he glanced up at Charlie when he didn’t answer right away, and she cut her eyes towards the second cop, who was going through Dean’s desk, and holding an evidence bag. “Why are the police here?”

“S-stalker, I think. I got another letter from my secret admirer. They said ‘not for much longer’. Whoever it is is really creeping me out. Knows what music I like. Knows about your comment--”

“Mr. Winchester, please." The deep, authoritative voice of the second cop interjected smoothly, while he watched Cas with an assessing gaze. "We need to speak to your assistant and that would be much easier if you didn’t divulge details precipitously.”

“Fuck that!” Dean shouted. “He’s not just my assistant, he’s my lover, we live together. The idea that these come from him is idiotic, because he already has me, I told you that already!”

“Mr. Winchester, I understand that this is distressing--”

“Have you ever had a stalker? Had someone been repeating your conversations from multiple locations, without you knowing who they were or how they heard in so many places?” Dean demanded, and Cas laid a hand on his shoulder as he stood, trying to calm him.

“No, sir. But I still need Mr. Novak’s statement, he may remember something you don’t. May we use your office? I don’t see the need to head to the station. Mr. Novak, please, come with me.”

Cas bent and laid a kiss on Dean’s temple, earning him a small smile before Dean went back to staring at the floor. “Call your brother, Dean. He should know.”

“Not his jurisdiction, and he’s an hour away, nothing he can do,” Dean pointed out.

“He’s a hotshot homicide detective, and you're his brother. Trust me, he’ll do something.”

Cas stepped into the office with the cop, who introduced himself as Officer Henrikson. “Last week you went into the bakery on 3rd with Mr. Winchester. Do you remember anything unusual happening?”

“Other than getting free coffee from Meg? Not a thing. She’s the owner, and a friend. I’d dragged Dean in with me so she could meet him officially.”

“Why would she say you’re bad for him?” the cop asked intently, and Cas frowned.

“You’ve spoken to her? Or was that in the note? Fucking hell, there were half a dozen people in there, it could have been anyone.”

“Mr. Novak?”

“Yeah, um...” He snorted, remembering. “I always get a slice of pecan pie for Dean, and I get a honey cruller. I jokingly said that I was a honey cruller, and she said I was bad for his ability to walk straight.” Henrikson stiffened slightly, and Cas gave him a glare. “I’m not abusing my lover, but we had had very enthusiastic sex that morning before work. Was there anything else you needed to know?”

“How long have you been living together, Mr. Novak?” Henrikson asked, his manner unruffled.

“A couple of weeks. Which has what to do with Dean's stalker?” Cas asked, his brow drawing down. 

“The previous notes were certainly disturbing, but not overtly or even covertly threatening in their content. This one shows an anger and instability that is far more concerning.”

“You're saying the stalker doesn't like that Dean and I are in a relationship. Well, tough. If this person is willing to escalate at all, then me avoiding Dean certainly won't change that. They've already convinced themselves he needs saving from me, which is ridiculous. Dean is mine, and I'm his.”

Henrikson eyed him a moment before snapping his notebook shut and tucking it into his belt. “Okay, I think I've got everything I need. I'll see if the bakery has security cameras, we might be able to get a look at whoever was there that day.”

“Good idea, though I'm not sure she has a camera system. Not like her goods are marketable outside the location, not in volume. Though I suppose most of her income is cash based, she just might.” Cas shrugged, looking back towards the outer office. “Please find this guy, officer. I don’t want anything to happen to Dean. He’s very important to me.”

“We’ll figure it out. Maybe keep close while we work this out.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight. Excuse me.” Cas quickly moved to the outer office, only to find Charlie sitting waiting for him, and no sign of Dean.

“Relax, Cas,” she told him, holding up a hand to forestall his recriminations. “He’s just gone to the can, and Benny went with to mind the door. They’ve instituted a buzz in for the door to the lobby, so no more mail will be delivered without being brought in that way. Can’t help if they start posting it, but there are ways to track that as well. Just slower.”

“Alright, alright.” Cas ran his fingers through his hair and tapped one finger against his lips in thought. His desk was a mess, and he only hoped Benny had been there while confidential information had been accessed. He hadn’t been there, so he knew he wasn’t responsible if anything got out that shouldn’t, but the mess of a lawsuit was stress he certainly didn’t need.

Dean reappeared and Cas held open his arms. Without hesitation, Dean embraced him, his arms clutching Cas tightly, as though he never wanted to let go again. Cas made a decision.

“Let’s go home, pet. I’m pretty sure no one will fault you for taking half a day to figure this out. And anyone who does, is a dick.” He glanced over Dean’s shoulder to the windows to the hallway, and muttered under his breath so only Dean could hear. “Speaking of things getting a little phallic, here’s Bart.”

Dean snorted a laugh against his ear, and turned as Bart stormed in.

“So this is what comes from fucking your assistant, just standing around embarrassing the company when there’s work to be done and clients to satisfy. No wonder your numbers--”

“Are better than yours? Sorry to interrupt, I’m just going by the meeting minutes Charlie just brought us.” Cas gave an insincere smile as Dean set Bart back on his heels, winking surreptitiously at Charlie, who hid a smile. Bart drew a breath to continue haranguing them, when officer Henrikson appeared from the inner office. 

“You’ll be heading home for the day, I assume? Good, take the day, and be careful. Until we’ve identified the source of the threat, it would be best if you stayed with Cas or if you’re at work and he’s not available, if a security guard would make rounds during the day… I suppose that’s up to the board of directors for the expense.”

Cas took Dean’s hand, getting his attention. “Call him. He’ll clear it, and just because the threat is aimed at you doesn’t mean no one else in the building couldn’t end up in danger.”

“I’m not calling my granddad!” Dean grumbled, and Cas gave him an imperious look that dissolved into a sly smile.

“Fine.” He pulled his cell from his pocket and started scrolling through his contacts.

“What are you doing, Cas?” Dean asked suspiciously.

“Your grandma texted me about the recipe we had on the weekend. I was just gonna text her back,” he said innocently, typing a message.

“Dammit Cas! Alright, fine, I’ll call the old man. But it can wait til we get home, Benny won’t be watching me anyway, he can make the rounds. And if Baby isn’t in the parking lot, it’ll be clear I’m not here.”

Bart was stuttering and stammering as he tried to make the ruckus Dean’s fault or somehow to his own benefit, until finally he exclaimed, “You’ll be in tomorrow, I assume?” before storming out.

Officer Henrikson raised a questioning brow, and Cas gave in to a devious thought.

“Bartholomew Jones, one of Dean’s coworkers. He’s always had an unreasonable jealousy of Dean’s accomplishments and connections.”

“I take it there’s a family tie, from your conversation,” Henrikson surmised, while Dean frowned. He truly hated having his family business spouted. “Could this be more about office politics than personal?”

Dean hesitated, then sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Anything is possible, but other than the letters coming here, there’s been no connection to work. My granddad is the CEO, Samuel Campbell, though.”

“And who knows that, of your colleagues?” the cop asked, taking out his notebook again.

“Um, I’d say most of them. I’m not sure about the assistants, Cas didn’t until I told him myself, Charlie? Did you know?” he turned to the redhead, who nodded.

“Zar,” she said, as though that explained everything, which Cas supposed it did. He was good-hearted, but loved to gossip. 

“What do you think, would Aaron know?” Dean asked Cas, who waffled over his answer for a moment.

“Maybe, maybe not. I get the feeling Bart isn’t the chatty type so much as the ranting type. So if he was feeling particularly bitchy, he might have mentioned it, but I don’t think he’d go out of his way to deliberately share with a lowly assistant.” Cas watched as Dean’s brow lowered, and held up a hand. “I’m using Bart’s terminology, not mine, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Charlie snorted a laugh, and eyed Dean, who gave her an embarrassed grin and shook his head. “Figure of speech, I do  _ not _ wear panties,” he declared with a blush.

Henrikson coughed and excused himself as Charlie laughed. “Hey, I don’t kink shame, and seriously, satin is comfy. You should try it,” she offered with a wink.

Dean turned an interesting shade of pink, and Cas thought he might have to investigate that reaction. Later, in private.

***

Dean stared about his office, and made a note to have the wall shared with the photocopier room soundproofed. He sat at his desk and checked his email quickly, setting an away message to automatically reply, noting that he would return the next day. He forwarded a couple critical issues to Zar, the rest could wait half a day. He might have to stay later sometime this week, but nothing else was going to be accomplished today.

He stood and moved to the outer office, where Cas was muttering as he rearranged his desk. “Problem, Cas?”

“Henrikson didn’t like my letter opener, so I’m supposed to take it home.”

“Leave it for tonight, I wanna stop at the Roadhouse for burgers. Wanna meet Ellen and Jo? Jo’s like the little sister I never wanted, and her mom, Ellen, could handle security here with a single look. C’mon babe, I still want to get home for some serious alone time with you.”

Cas chuckled softly, pulling Dean to him. “Eager, I know. But we’ll talk about tonight’s plans later. I might be changing them. Neither of us is in the right headspace right now for what we talked about earlier. That doesn’t mean we can’t still play though.” Cas nuzzled at his ear, and Dean drew a shuddering breath. “Do you want to play, my pet?”

Dean chuckled softly, and nibbled at Cas’s throat. “Yes, Master,” he purred softly, stepping into Cas’s space.

“Good boy.” Dean found himself shuddering softly at the whispered endearment, and pressed closer for a slow kiss, then drew back reluctantly. They were in the outer office after all, and curious staff were still circulating.

“Let’s get outta here. Having a stalker is exciting enough for one day, I just want some good food and home.” Dean tugged Cas along by the hand, holding onto his lover and leading him to the elevator. They waved to a laughing Charlie as they passed the door to her office, and Zar blew them both a kiss as he went by, then pulled a mock-offended face when they each flipped him the bird.

The last thing Dean heard as the elevator doors closed was Zar's “Well, I never!” and Charlie’s returned “You should, it's fun!”

Dean and Cas shared a quick glance and burst out laughing, Cas leaning on Dean's shoulder as they rode the elevator down, until they were wiping tears from their eyes as the doors reopened. Dean stepped closer to Cas as Alastair stepped on with the mail cart, his ice blue eyes taking in every detail of the two of them with a sneer.

“Causing all sorts of trouble today, I hear,” he commented, his nasal voice grating on Dean's nerves harshly. 

“I assume you've already spoken to the police, Alastair?” Cas spoke up, drawing the man's focus.

“Me? Of course,” he smirked. “Not much I could tell them, the mail coming in from outside, so I just deliver it.”

The elevator stopped again on the ground floor and Cas held the door while Alastair wheeled out his cart. Dean stepped out with Cas, and they waved to the receptionist, a young man named Kevin who was interning. 

Dean stopped to speak to Benny, who was manning the desk with Kevin as they settled into the new buzz in procedure. Benny eyed the parking lot for a moment, then nodded to them both. 

“You take it easy, chers, and we'll be here tomorrow.”

Dean slid into Baby's drivers seat with a groan, then turned to Cas as he settled in at his side. Cas gently ran his fingers up the nape of his neck, and Dean leaned into his touch. 

“Let’s not have a repeat of today, okay? At least the parts at work. This morning can definitely happen again,” he told Cas with a wink, and was rewarded with a deep chuckle that slid down his spine.

“I believe you offered burgers at the Roadhouse. Is going there going to be a problem? You’re not entirely out.”

“Fuck it. I don’t need to come out and have a parade. I’ll introduce you when I can, and it’ll be this is my boyfriend. That should make it obvious. Maybe if more people just heard from friends or whatever that they bumped into Dean and his boyfriend, and made it just a normal conversation, it wouldn’t be such a big fuckin’ deal in this country.”

“I like the way you think,” Cas told him, and pulled him in for a soft kiss. Dean fought the urge to lose himself in his lips, and pulled back with a grin.

“C’mon. You may get twenty questions from Ellen, and Jo might threaten your life if you hurt me.”

“I should just take her seriously no matter how hilarious it is?” Cas asked, and Dean barked a laugh as he pulled into traffic.

“No, you should take her seriously because she has a bigger knife collection than most professional chef shows, and she’s twice as fast. She’s five-four, and scary as fuck.”

“Noted. You met Anna. Same energy.”

“Yeah, but not nearly as tiny, she’s what, barely two inches shorter than you? Besides, redheads, am I right? You expect the craziness with them.”

“I’m surprised Anna didn’t threaten you when we had brunch, actually. It would have been like her.”

Dean pulled into the Roadhouse lot and parked in the back, and waved to Ash, who was smoking by the corner.

“That’s Ash, fyi. He tends bar when he’s not hacking the Pentagon, near as I can tell. He went to MIT, but he’s had that haircut since the eighties,” Dean explained, pointing out his friend’s mullet, to Cas’s amusement. “I'm not sure he was born at that point, but whatever, his hair is immortal.”

They walked into the low-lit Roadhouse, and Dean immediately headed for the bar, where Ellen gave a slow smile and a wave. 

“Dean, what brings you in this time of day?” She eyed Cas for a moment, then flicked to Dean’s throat. Her eyebrows rose, but her smile warmed. “Not a business meeting, I take it.”

Dean felt his cheeks heat, and he clapped a hand to his throat. “Dude, did you really give me a hickey?”

“No, Dean,” Cas replied, his voice dripping with amusement. “But you got rid of your tie and popped a button, so don’t look as pristinely polished as you might during work.” He turned and actually winked at Ellen. “I could fix that though. The lack of hickey, I mean.”

Dean muttered under his breath as he fought his blush, cursing his fair skin and freckles. “Ellen, meet my boyfriend Cas. He’s also my assistant, but no, we’re not here for a work meeting, just some burgers.”

“Good to meetcha. Dean told me a few weeks ago that he met someone, but he hadn’t updated me on how it was goin’.”

“A few weeks ago there was nothin’ to tell, Ellen,” Dean reminded her, hoping, in vain, that she’d drop it.

“So when you left the bar a couple weeks ago, leavin’ me and Jo to explain to your brother that you’d gone home, that was completely unrelated.”

Dean found his blush returning, but he met Cas’s eyes with a faint smile. All that had already been covered between them, and Dean took Cas’s hand without hesitation. “Yeah, well that was a great big misunderstanding, and we got it straightened out,” he explained with a wry smile, catching Cas biting his tongue at his phrasing. “Shaddup, you know what I meant.”

Cas grinned and pulled Dean against his side, kissing him softly. Dean melted. Something about being in Cas’s arms, he felt safe. He returned the kiss, his eyes sliding closed as he fell into the sensation, when a throat cleared behind them. Dean froze against his lover's lips, his eyes wide, and murmured softly, “Tiny blonde? Likely armed?” Cas's eyes danced in amusement, and he gave Dean another peck before stepped back slightly. 

“Dean, gonna introduce your friend?” Jo teased as Dean dropped his head onto Cas's shoulder and sighed in resignation. He turned to see Jo smiling her most innocent smile, and cringed inwardly. She was going to be a pain in the ass.

“Hey, Jo. This is my boyfriend, Castiel Novak. Cas, meet Joanna Beth Harvelle, one of my best friends and resident pain in the ass barkeep. Be nice though, those scars on the bar are from her practicing with her knives.”

Cas chuckled dryly and Dean's eyes widened. Jo's smile turned feral, and she stepped closer in an obvious challenge. Cas smirked down at her, and Dean stepped between them. 

“No. No, whatever you two crazies are planning, my day has already had enough. Cas, bacon cheeseburgers.” Dean poked at Cas's chest with one finger, then turned to his friend. “Jo, I will forget about my promise to put in a good word for you with Charlie.”

Cas looked guilty at the reminder of the day Dean had had, and he and Jo shared a look of understanding. “Dean, you should really text your brother,” Cas reminded him, and Dean sighed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Alright, let’s get our food ordered and I’ll text him. He’s gonna freak. Ever since he was on the force he’s been stupid protective of me, as though I didn’t change his diapers. This is gonna piss him off.”

“Dean, this is serious. Besides, your name is in the system now. You think he doesn’t have someone flagging that?”

“He wouldn’t!” Dean stared at him, aghast.

Cas simply shrugged. “I would.”

Jo bounced on her heels once, and Dean turned to look at her, and saw her dark brows drawn down over her eyes.  _ Shit. _ He glanced over at Ellen, who stood behind the bar, wiping it down with a cloth entirely too vigorously to not have heard.  _ Shit! _

“I, uh… I appear to have a stalker. I’ve been getting weird notes at work, and today’s was kinda crossing the creepy to threatening line.” Dean watched in fascinated horror as Jo’s hand twitched towards her waist as she scanned the bar, her dark eyes nearly black with anger.

“Dean Michael Winchester, what the hell are you thinking, not telling us right away!” Ellen threw the rag down on the counter, and slammed down a few shot glasses. Pouring quickly, she slid one each to himself and Cas, another to Jo, and scooped up the fourth. 

Slamming back her drink, she pointed an accusatory finger at him, then stabbed it at a bar stool. “Sit. Call your brother. You are  _ not  _ leaving him a text, especially after the way you left the bar after he drove an hour and a half to meet you two weeks ago.”

Dean winced, though he knew he deserved that. Cas stroked a soothing hand down his back, and Dean sighed, pulling out his phone. Ellen placed a beer in front of him and squeezed his hand before moving down the bar to deal with another customer, and Dean knew he was forgiven by at least one person. Trouble was Jo was still glaring at him and tapping her fingers on the bar. 

Cas squeezed the nape of his neck lightly, and grabbed his beer, taking a swig. Setting it on the bar with a clunk, he leaned forward into Jo’s line of sight. “So, I hear you like knives. How are you at throwing them?” Dean startled, but settled back down on his stool when Cas squeezed his knee lightly, and pulled up Sam’s contact number. He dialed and walked to the bathroom hallway, staying in Cas’s line of sight. 

The phone rang several times, until he heard Sam’s voicemail message start. Sighing, he waited for the beep.

“Hey Sammy, I gotta talk to you about something that’s goin’ on with me. I’m okay, but it’s a bit freaky, and the cops here are already involved. Don’t panic, like I said, I’m fine. Cas is looking out for me, I’m totally safe with him. Gimme a call back.”

Dean wandered back to the bar, where to his disbelief Jo and Cas were chatting about varying makes of throwing knives, balance, materials, and Cas was twirling one of Jo’s knives between his fingers. He flipped it to hold by the point, then offered it to Jo handle first. 

“You two playin’ nice?” he asked as he sauntered back over, sliding his arm around his lover’s shoulders.

“Nah, we’re gonna prove who’s better later on. You guys stickin’ around for a bit?” Jo asked.

“Long enough for burgers and beers, why?” 

“I’m off at five, Ma doesn’t like me throwin’ when I’m on the clock.”

“And there’s a good reason for that, Joanna Beth!” Ellen told her sharply, nudging her with her shoulder. “Get on, give their order to Alfie.”

Dean grinned at the woman who was closest to him. “Is there a reason we should know about?”

Jo looked stubbornly away, and Ellen rolled her eyes. “Ask Ash about the scar on his arm.”

“That bounce was not my fault, there was a knot in the wood! And he didn’t even need stitches…” She trailed off, her shoulders hunched, and spun to stomp off to the kitchen, muttering. 

“So are the burgers as good as yours?” Cas asked, taking a long pull of his beer.

“Better. Who do you think taught me to make ‘em?” Dean grinned. 

They chatted while they waited for their burgers, but Dean noticed a tension to Cas that wasn’t usually there. Every time the door opened, Cas’s glanced flicked that way, assessing.

“Dude, relax,” Dean teased, poking Cas in the ribs. “No one is going to try anything in the Roadhouse, it's way too busy a joint, and Ash has security all over it. Only spot without cameras is the bathroom stalls and the urinals.”

Cas gave him a questioning look and grinned. “The bathrooms have cameras?”

“Yup, just not where anyone should be flashing their junk.”

Cas sipped his beer. “So I can have my way with you in a stall, but not at the sinks. Got it.”

Dean choked.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***NSFW ART***

Several hours later, Cas led Dean out to the Impala in the dark, dusk made black by clouds rolling in. His pet wobbled, drunk, and he pinned him to the side of the car when Dean tried to open the door.

“Dean, my pet, you're not driving. So we're either calling an Uber and your beloved Baby is staying here overnight--”

“Not a fucken chance!” Dean slurred.

“Or you give me the keys and I drive us home.” Dean whined for a moment, hesitant, then handed his keys over. “Good boy.”

Dean shivered against him, and Cas chuckled darkly. Dean glanced at Cas over his shoulder where Cas was still pressed against his body. 

“Gonna take me home an’ fuck me,  _ Master? _ Gonna wrap your hand around my throat and choke me while I suck on your cock, then bend me over an’ fuck me raw?” Cas fought to control his breathing, wicked impulses filling him, and he crowded Dean further.

“Don't taunt me, boy,” he growled. “You will regret it when I punish you later. Or is that what you want?”

Dean whimpered and rolled his hips against him, and Cas snarled, hurriedly unlocking the door and shoving Dean into the Impala, pushing him across the bench to the passenger seat.

“You will sit there, and be a good boy until we get home, or I  _ will _ have to punish you, Dean.”

Dean licked his lips, shifting to make his seat more comfortable, and Cas glanced down, finding Dean hard and leaking through his slacks. Dean's hand slid from the seat to his own thigh, and he met Cas's gaze assessingly. A look of mischief filled Dean's eyes, and he licked his lips again, slow and deliberate, then palmed himself roughly. He groaned, long and low, and Cas stared as the rain started pelting the windshield in great, fat drops. 

Soon the lights from the Roadhouse were swimming in a yellow haze through the downpour, and Cas had Dean pressed to the passenger door, one hand stroking his cock through his pants, the other fisted tightly in his hair as he kissed him. Cas plundered his mouth, stifling the whimper that tried to escape Dean at the onslaught. Dean was quivering beneath his touch, helpless and desperate, and Cas drew back abruptly.

“We need to get home to continue this,” he said calmly. “And by the way, touch yourself before I say you can and I  _ will _ punish you. And that would mean I won't fuck you tonight.”

Dean stared at him, his mouth agape, and he swallowed harshly. “Cas…” he started, then flushed when Cas raised one imperious brow. “Master.” He whispered now, visibly chastened. “I understand.”

Cas stroked a gentle, tender hand down Dean's jaw, then grasped his chin firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I'm doing this for you, pet, all for you. Be my good boy, and I'll take care of everything.”

Rather than fight the punishing grip, Dean melted into it, tucking himself into Cas's palm, nuzzling it drunkenly. Cas smiled softly at him. “Yours. Only yours, Master.”

“Good boy.” Cas dropped a gentle kiss on his forehead. As Dean looked out the window at the storm, Cas surreptitiously popped a small blue pill.  _ This is going to be so much fun. _

They drove home cautiously through the driving rain, and Cas led Dean into the house. Even the few steps between the garage and the front door left them drenched, and they shivered as they stripped in the front hall. 

“Dean, you've had a stressful day, so I'll forgive your lapse for tonight, but when I tell you to behave, I expect you to obey. If I can't trust that you will, what else might you disobey me on?”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he thought about it, his brain muzzily trying to function through the alcohol. “Wait, Cas, somethin’ doesn’t sound right…”

Cas frowned, staring balefully at the stubborn man before him, and Dean tensed. Cas reached for him and stroked down his chest gently, teasing at a nipple before pulling his hand back, and Dean gasped at the contact, swaying on his feet. He stumbled forward, and Cas hid a smile as he caught him. 

“To bed, sweet boy. First, a mild punishment so you remember the rules. Then I do believe you wanted me to ‘fuck you raw’.” Cas deliberately lowered his voice and watched as Dean’s pupils blew wide and a downward glance showed his cock starting to swell. “Mmm, that’s my good boy.”

He took Dean’s hand and they picked up their clothes, tossing them into the laundry room to deal with later. For now, Cas had other plans. His gaze devoured Dean hungrily, and he knew tonight would be special. That Dean wasn’t entirely steady only added to the spice of it, and Cas fought to keep moving slowly, not to push too much too fast.

Dean stumbled behind him as they walked to the bedroom, and Cas looked around the darkened room. Crossing to the bed, he flicked on the small lamp on the night table, spilling a warm glow through the room. He moved back to Dean’s side, and led him closer to the wardrobe, then slowly pressed him to his knees. There. Kneeling in the dried spunk from that morning, his green eyes dark with want, his hair standing on end from Cas’s hands. Cas fisted his hand in Dean’s hair once more, and ran his thumb over his lip.

“Open up for me, sweet boy.” He slid his thumb between his lips and pressed down on his tongue until Dean opened wide. Cas groaned softly at the sight, and lined up his cock with those plush lips. “Use your tongue.”

He did.

Dean dove forward, sucking Cas’s cock as though his life depended on it, his tongue circling the head and digging under the ridge, sliding hot and wet over the slit, and he moaned like a whore when Cas’s hand tightened in his hair.

“Perfect, good boy. You love my cock, don’t you? Good, now suck it, Dean. Get me all wet so I can fuck that tight little hole of yours.” Dean moaned around his cock again, spit trailing down his chin as he opened wider and Cas took the invitation, fucking into his mouth with sharp snaps of his hips. The wet gagging sound of his cock hitting the back of Dean’s throat filled the room.    
  
“Mmm, yeah, my good boy, my little bitch, aren’t you?” Cas groaned, shuddering with pleasure that ran down his spine. “You’re hard for me, while I use you like a little slut. I bet if I slapped you, you’d like it, wouldn’t you?”

Dean froze, his eyes wide, and Cas pulled his cock free. “Cas--” Dean’s head jerked back as Cas slapped him, and he moaned, his cock jumping even as tears sprang to his eyes. “Please, I don’t--”  _ smack  _ “Please, Master, I--”  _ smack _

Tears and snot ran down Dean’s face to mix with the spit and precome dotting his chin, and Cas thrust back between his lips harshly, one hand clutching around his throat as he shoved his cock down, squeezing until he could feel the swell of his cock against his thumb. Dean moaned despite himself, and Cas shuddered, coming hard down his throat. He slowly pulled back, smearing his cock over Dean’s lips and cheeks, and smiled sweetly down at him.

“So beautiful, love.” He fetched a cloth and tenderly wiped Dean’s face clean, then pressed a second cloth, this one soaked in cool water to soothe, against the red marks on each cheek where he’d struck Dean even as his tears continued to fall. “So good for me, my sweet boy, so perfect. Rest a little, and you can tell me if you want to keep going tonight.”

“M-Master, yes. I want to please you. Please, let me be your good boy,” Dean sobbed quietly, and Cas smiled at him proudly. 

“Anything for you, my darling. I promise to take good care of you, to give you what you need. You didn’t even know you needed it, did you, sweet boy? There now, shhh… You’re mine, Dean. All mine. And I’ve got you.” Cas lifted Dean to his feet and scooped him into his arms, which strained slightly under the bulk of the taller man. That simply reminded him deliciously that he had control over his stronger lover, and his cock twitched. “Now, my sweet boy, did you still want me to fuck you? To choke you as you come? I can do that for you.”

“Ye-yes, Master. Please. Take me to the brink.”

Cas’s eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip against the flash of exquisite joy he felt at those words. One day he’d do as Dean asked, though he didn’t suppose Dean truly understood his words. For tonight, choking him as he fucked him would be close enough.

“If I’m going to fuck you, you need to get me hard again. Now how shall we accomplish that, pet?” Dean shuddered and Cas gave a slow smirk, and watched as Dean licked his swollen lips. “Yes pet, you are mine. Perhaps I’ll put a collar on you and you can crawl after me like a bitch.” Cas watched as Dean’s cheeks flushed and his lips twisted in discomfort at Cas’s words. His cock twitched again, and he stroked a hand down Dean’s chest to play with his nipples. When Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, Cas grasped one and pinched harshly, pulling a cry from him as his body arched. Whether he was chasing the zing of pain or trying to escape, Cas didn’t know, but the pained shout filled his cock quickly.

So he had some wires crossed. He knew it, and if he used it for pleasure, well, he hadn’t done any permanent harm lately. And he certainly wasn’t going to break his new toy.

Setting Dean down on the bed, Cas caressed his hair softly, then stroked down his chest again, over the sore nipple. Dean whimpered under his hands as he soothed the tender nub, lowering his mouth to it and laving his tongue over it gently. Dean gasped at the touch, leaning into him as Cas twirled his tongue around the nipple lightly, bringing it to a stiff peak before biting down just shy of too hard. Dean cried out again and Cas grasped one of his hands, bringing it to his own cock.

“Good boy, you have me ready for you again. Now, last chance. I’m going to fuck you senseless, and I’m going to choke you when you come. You want this, sweet boy?”

“Yes, Master, fuck me,  _ please!”  _ he pleaded, and Cas brushed a gentle hand through his hair.

“There’s my good pet. Now, lay down on the bed.” Cas pushed him over gently, and Dean lay down spread eagle, canting his hips up to expose his hole. “Such a pretty hole. I think one of these days we’ll have to see if I can wreck it for you, get my fist in there and fuck you hard with it. Would you like that, pet?” Cas asked softly, trailing light fingers down Dean’s chest to stroke lightly over his hip, his knuckles grazing along his cock. 

“Fuck, Cas, Master, yes!”

“You want me to destroy that hole of yours, make it loose and sloppy with my come?” He dragged his thumbnail down the other hip bone, and teased at the loose skin of his balls. Dean whined, trying to buck into his hand, and Cas pulled back. “Ah ah, answer me, pet.”

“Yes, anything,  _ please!” _ Dean begged desperately, his eyes blown wide and dark, babbling frantically.

“You want me to fist you, punch into that tender little hole until you’re gaping like a slut, ‘til my knuckles pound into your sweet spot and you come from it?” Cas was practically vibrating with need, but he held himself still, waiting for his lover to give himself up.

_ “Master, fuck me, fist me, choke me, anything!” _ Dean was sobbing again, and Cas gave a slow, sinful smile.

“That’s it, pet. So good for me,” he purred. “No need to be afraid of your Master, I’ll take good care of you, as long as you obey me.”

_ “Yes, yours, fuck me!” _ Dean was quivering with need, his hands hooked behind his knees to expose his hole further, and Cas smiled at the wanton sight he made. He crawled up over Dean’s body, and shoved his red, dripping cock against his lips.

“Better get me wet then, like a good little slut.”

Dean opened immediately, and Cas thrust slowly into his hot, wet mouth again. He went slowly this time, not chasing his release, not yet. Dean circled his cock with his tongue, licking up and down the shaft, one hand playing lightly with his balls as he worked Cas over. Finally Cas drew back, his cock and Dean’s lips both slick and shiny.

“Good boy, now spread yourself for me,” he ordered, sliding back down the bed to wait for Dean to hold his legs apart again. He grasped his hips and tilted them up sharply and lined up, his thick head pressing against the tight pucker before him. 

“Wait, Cas, what ’bout lube?” Dean slurred hesitantly, and Cas smirked. He spat against Dean’s balls, watching it drip down over his perineum slowly until it slid over the end of his cock and Dean’s hole, and pressed in.

“Not tonight, pet. Tonight I’m going to destroy you, and put you back together, and you’ll beg me for more.” He spat again, dripping it down his shaft, and Dean tensed, wincing slightly at the pressure even as Cas gripped Dean’s cock and stroked it a few times, collecting precome and smearing it over his own cock. He pressed forward, and Dean whined, but still held himself open. “That’s it, take my cock like the slut you are, my good little boy, my sweet bitch.” 

He pressed deeper, until he was seated, Dean’s squirming underneath him only spurring him on. He pulled back an inch and spat on Dean’s hole where it stretched tight around his cock, then rammed forward, tilting Dean’s hips to aim for his prostate. The startled shout he let out told him he’d found it, and he proceeded to pound into his lover, who wailed and quaked under him. 

“Cas, wait, fuck, too mu--”  _ Slap!  _ “Ma-master, please it’s too dry!” Dean whimpered, his body trying to squirm away even as his hips rocked down towards the pounding Cas was giving him. Cas grasped his cock again and striped it quickly, and Dean clenched around him, sending Cas flying over the edge again. He came hard into Dean’s ass, and with the come dripping from his ass, Dean was shaking, quivering at the slick slide.

“That’s it, sweet boy. You got me to come, now you’re all wet and ready for me to just fuck into you.”  _ Good old pharmaceuticals. This is going to be a long night. _ He kept thrusting into Dean, his cock sensitive and on the edge of pain, and he ground out a curse as he worked past it, driving into Dean’s prostate, his cries spurring him onward. 

“Oh fuck, fuck  _ fuck, Master! Cas! Fuck, do it, I’m close!”  _ Cas grasped Dean’s hand, and smirked as his pet dragged his hand to his own throat.

He closed his hand around Dean’s windpipe, squeezing carefully at the carotid arteries on each side, and groaned at the speeding pulse under his touch. “That’s it, sweet boy, you can feel it, can’t you?” He squeezed just a little tighter and felt Dean clench around him, his eyes wide and losing focus as he neared the edge. 

Cas would take him to that edge tonight, and past it.

***

Dean moaned at the sensations filling him, the buzz of all the beer and bourbon he'd drunk, but also intense pleasure, shame, joy, pain, lust, humiliation, and over it all, a driving, desperate need. His pulse was pounding in his head, but a heat was building in his gut like nothing he’d felt before, and if he could just ride it out, he knew it would be spectacular. 

The heat tightened, pooled in his gut even as sparks started to dance over his vision, and he moaned, babbling to his Master, begging, pleading for more as Cas pounded into him, sweat dripping from him to make Dean as wet outside as he was in.

His Master’s fingers tightened at his throat and he relaxed into his grip, surrendering to his touch as he used his body, thrusting against his prostate in a driving rhythm sending Dean burning hotter and higher, until finally he squeezed tight around Dean’s throat for a few seconds, and ground into him  _ hard _ .

The molten ball in his gut shattered, and Dean gasped for air as Cas loosened his grip, unable to scream his pleasure as he seized, and feeling Cas empty into him again. He was still floating when Cas thrust hard through his own orgasm, his hand tightening on Dean’s throat as he pounded, pounded,  _ pounded… _

_ Black. _

***

Cas watched as Dean slumped beneath him, and loosened his grip slightly, still thrusting through the best orgasm of his life. When he finally stilled, he stroked a gentle hand down Dean’s unresponsive cheek, and felt his cock throb at having this gorgeous man at his mercy, literally fucked senseless. He pulled out, a flood of come following, and he moved to the wardrobe, fetching one of his silk ties. Stepping back to the bed he crawled up over Dean’s body, and deliberately shoved his still dripping cock between his lips, shuddering at the pleasure and ache moving through him.

He rocked his hips slowly, sliding his cock to the edge of Dean’s throat, a low whimper escaping him as he quickly tied Dean’s hands to the headboard, making sure to cross his wrists so he could turn onto his stomach once Cas was done with his mouth. 

He thrust lazily, making sure not to block Dean's airway. The sting of his oversensitive cock scraping lightly against Dean's teeth was sending shivers through him, and he knew if Dean were startled when he woke, he could lose a part that was quite precious to him. Pinching his own nipples hard, his back arched and he thrust faster, but still shallow. Drawing back with a wet slurp of Dean's lips, he checked his pulse. Slow, but steady. He fetched lube and set it aside on the bed, then a cloth which he wiped over Dean's chest lightly, then across his cheeks, smirking at the come he was smearing over him. He folded the cloth to wipe him clean again, and Dean stirred underneath his hands, blinking up at him in confusion.

“There you are. You had me worried, pet.” Cas smiled down at him, feeling a shiver run through him at the sleepy trust in Dean's eyes as he blinked again, then rolled his head to glance up at his wrists. 

“Tying me up?” Dean rasped, his voice rough and low. “Kinky,  _ Master.” _

Cas smirked and tapped him lightly on one cheek. “No sass from you, pet. Now be my good boy and turn over. There you go, show me that sweet hole.  _ Mmmm… _ Dean, you should see it, pet. Red and puffy and just begging to be filled again. Still dripping my spunk down your thighs.” Cas scooped up some of the slow drip and shoved it back into Dean's hole with two fingers, pushing them deep. Slicking his hand with the lube, he rubbed circles around Dean’s prostate, and Dean moaned for him.

“Advantage of a prostate orgasm, sweet boy? You’re still hard. And I can keep draining you to slick the way, now come on…” Cas pressed more firmly, massaging over Dean’s prostate in precise motions, and Dean bucked underneath his hand, thrusting back with a yelp as the pressure started to build again. “That’s it, don’t fight it, pet, relax, and let me make you come so hard you feel like it might blind you.” 

Dean whined underneath him, his hips rolling as he fucked himself back on Cas’s fingers, and Cas easily slid a third into him, and the tip of his thumb soon joined them. He spread his fingers, pulling a wail from deep within Dean as he tucked all of his fingers together and pressed in slowly. He met resistance and pulled back, driving back in with three fingers to massage over his sweet spot, and Dean came with a startled shout. Cas was prepared, catching his spunk with his free hand, and quickly poured it over Dean’s hole, then tugged at his rim with his thumbs, watching as it gaped and clenched around nothing each time he let go. Dean collapsed onto his chest, his ass still in the air, and gasped for breath.

“Too much, Master, please, I can’t go again…” Dean whimpered, and Cas chuckled softly. 

“Oh my sweet boy. Yes you can. Or do you really want to stop when you’re feeling like this?” he asked, grasping Dean’s cock firmly and letting the throb of it register. Dean cried out under him, tears in his eyes, and he tried to thrust into Cas’s hand. “Ah, ah, ah… Not 'til I say you can, pet. For now…”

Cas blew gently over Dean’s gaping hole, and he shuddered, then shouted as Cas thrust his fingers back in, pressing slowly, slowly,  _ pushing  _ until Dean was positively wailing for him, squirming back and forth, tugging on the tie holding his wrists bound to the headboard.

“Hold onto the headboard, pet. Come on, there’s my sweet boy,” he coaxed as he pushed his hand deeper, his fingers swallowed to the knuckle. He curled his fingers inside Dean’s ass, and Dean cried out, his body bouncing off the mattress as he howled, and Cas laughed softly, none too kindly. He doubted his pet noticed, as far gone as he was. “A little more, take it, oh  _ fuck, yes!”  _ Cas snarled the last, and realized with a start, his cock was hard again in triumph as Dean’s hole sucked his fist in to the wrist. He twisted his fist inside Dean, and his pet screamed for him, pushing back against the enormous pressure inside him.

“Oh fuck, fuck _ fuckfuckyes! Master!”  _ Dean was sobbing again, and Cas rewarded him with another slow twist of his fist against his prostate. No matter how he moved his hand, he brushed against it, and Dean was incoherent as he begged for more. Cas pulled his hand back slightly, watching as Dean’s hole stretched, then shoved forward, and Dean cried out again, his body shaking and trembling, tears dropping to the pillow as Cas moved faster and faster, pounding his fist in and out of his hole, even as he jerked himself with his other hand. Cas felt his balls tighten to his body, and slipped his hand loose to slide his cock into Dean’s gaping ass, spurting deep into him. Cas fell over his pet’s back, barely catching himself as he went, and bit down hard on the muscle over his shoulder. With another shout Dean went flying over the edge, clenching around Cas’s cock and milking him as he spurted over the blankets, collapsing beneath him. Cas bore his body down to the mattress, and kissed and soothed the bite mark he’d left. 

“Such a good boy, my perfect pet,” he murmured, dazed. Dean was still beneath him, and Cas lifted his weight on shaking arms. His hands felt clumsy and slow as he untied Dean, and he noted the red marks. Dean would be wearing a long sleeved shirt tomorrow, he was certain.

Dean’s head lolled and he turned to meet Cas’s eyes. He looked down, and a blush coloured his cheeks, rather than the flush of exertion.

“Master?” he whispered, or maybe his voice was just wrecked from screaming his release over and over.

“Cas now, my pet, shhhhh… wait a minute, I’ll get you some water. Don’t try to talk yet.” He reached up and wiped away Dean’s tears with a gentle touch, bringing each salty drop to his lips, determinedly showing only sweet affection and concern, even as his mind skittered with a triumphant glee. His pet truly was perfect.

Cas stood and walked on unsteady legs to the bathroom, fetching a glass of water and another cloth. He turned on the water to fill the bath, and went back to the bedroom. He pulled Dean up to sit on the bed, and carefully gave him the water, in deliberately slow slips. He slowly wiped him down, then pulled him into his arms and carried him to the bathroom. Sliding him into the steaming water, he hushed him as he gasped at the temperature. 

“There now, pet, you're alright. Just relax, I'm going to get you some juice and a snack, I'll be right back, darling.” 

***

Dean was warm. His mind muzzily registered the steaming water surrounding him, and a quiet lassitude stole over him, the haze of alcohol still fogging his perceptions. He shifted in the water, feeling it swirl around him, and registered his aching muscles. His shoulders and arms, from being tied, his thighs from first kneeling and then holding his legs up, then kneeling again. There was a sharper spot of pain here and there. His wrists, where Cas's tie had bound him, then the spot near his shoulder blade where he'd bitten him, marked him. He shivered at the thought, shifting in the water, and his ass reminded him of another spot he'd been marked. There was a constant, throbbing ache unlike anything he'd ever felt, and yet it reminded him of the spectacular orgasms he'd had. 

Dean reached for a cloth and his muscles twinged again, and he hissed in response. Cas was suddenly at his side, wearing a pair of pyjama pants and kneeling beside the tub. 

“Easy, pet, let me take care of you. Here, drink some orange juice, and I've got some chocolate for you.”

Cas took the cloth from him and gently started washing his back, then trailed the cloth over his chest, washing away all traces of sweat and come, leaving only the physical marks of their passion. Dean trailed his fingers over a bite mark and hissed again, his back arching as he pressed hard. Cas gave a low, appreciative sound.

Cas rubbed over his nipple with the pad of his thumb, and Dean whimpered, squirming for more pressure. Cas hushed him gently, even as he twisted the sensitive nub lightly. Dean's head fell back against the edge of the tub, and he melted, his breath coming in soft pants. There was no way he was getting hard again, but the sensual touch of his lover's hands washed over him, sending him floating in bliss.

Eventually Cas coaxed him out of the water and patted him dry gently, careful of his tender body parts. “Go lie down, pet. I'm going to have a quick shower, then I'll give you a massage. Take your chocolate with you, and drink the water I left on the nightstand.”

Dean walked slowly into the bedroom and found Cas had changed the sheets, and there were two water bottles on each nightstand, as well as more chocolate. He sat gingerly, wincing at the ache in his ass, but feeling smug as well. He cracked open the water and swallowed it down greedily, his throat aching from his shouts and crying. He rubbed a hand over his face, and winced at his sore cheek. Cas had judged within a hair, the red mark had faded, but Dean was still feeling it. He ate some of the dark chocolate, then stretched out on his stomach to wait for Cas, falling into a light doze.

He woke when Cas settled over his hips, then gave a quiet moan of approval as Cas rubbed warmed and oily into his shoulders. Cas's lips followed, and Dean groaned as his strong hands soothed away any remaining tension, before his lips followed and teased him into a stupor. When Cas reached his lower spine and patted him gently, Dean gave him a sleepy smile and beckoned him back up the bed.

“Sleep with me, please, Master,” he mumbled. The alcohol was fading from his system, leaving an aching need to be held. Cas settled in beside him and Dean curled into him, his head tucked in under his chin. Cas slowly stroked his hair, petting him softly.

Dean slept.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean woke suddenly to his alarm, and groaned as his muscles protested. Cas pulled him into his arms again, muttering sleepily. “Dean, go back to sleep.” He was tempted, but his sense of responsibility wouldn't let him. The note he got yesterday came to mind and he scowled. 

“We have work Cas, and I'm not letting some crazy make me hide at home. Come on, I'll make coffee.”

Cas's head appeared from beneath the blankets, his hair a disorderly riot and his blue eyes blurry, an adorable scowl on his face.

“Coffee?” One shoulder and arm slid from under the blanket and he scrubbed at his hair before covering a yawn. “I need coffee. Dean, you need to move slow at first, and drink your other bottle of water. I'll make us a cup. I can make a trip when we get to work to get our free coffees from Meg.” Cas rolled out of bed and raked his eyes over Dean with a possessive hunger. “You're gonna want long sleeves today, pet.”

Dean glanced down at his arms as Cas quietly left the room, and found faint bruises at his wrists, and he blushed furiously, recalling being tied to the headboard while Cas fingered, fisted, and then fucked him. He shivered at the thought, something just feeling strange about it, then glanced down with a groan. Apparently his body had no qualms about the reminder, and Dean shook his head at his libido.  _ Not this morning, pal.  _

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood carefully. His body was one great ache, and all he could think was how sore he would have been if he hadn't had Cas taking care of him last night. The hot bath had definitely helped him relax, and he had a vague memory of a massage as well. Rubbing one hand over his shoulder, he smiled, the remnant of oil still on his skin. He must not have moved during the night or it would have rubbed off.

He scooped up his water bottle and drained it quickly, finding he was parched. Pulling himself upright with a groan, Dean limped slowly to the bathroom to relieve the pressure of his bladder. He propped himself on his elbows against the wall, shifting carefully from foot to foot. Sitting down at work might make for an interesting day.

Cas met him at the bathroom door with a steaming mug and a kiss, and gave him a cheeky grin as he stepped into the bathroom after patting him lightly on the ass.

***

Soon enough they were in the Impala, pulling into the Sandover parking lot, and Dean leaned over to give Cas a quick kiss. “Coffee?” Cas offered, and Dean grinned. 

“You know me so well. Please. I’ll see you in a few.” Dean pressed another kiss to the bolt of Cas’s jaw, and purred softly.  _ “Master.” _

“Be good for me, my pet, or you’ll earn a spanking,” Cas told him, only Dean was feeling cheeky and daring, and winked in response.

“Promise?”

Cas let out a low chuckle, and captured Dean’s mouth, nipping at his lips, fisting his hands in his hair lightly. When Dean melted against him he withdrew.

“Maybe I’ll promise not to spank you as punishment, pet,” he teased, and watched as his lover pouted. “Go on, I’ll be along with the coffee shortly. As carefully as you’re walking today, I might make it to the office ahead of you, in fact.”

Dean glared good-naturedly, then huffed a laugh. “Such an asshole.”

“Mmm. You love it though.”

***

Dean’s cell rang midway through the day, and he answered without glancing at the number. “Dean here, talk to me.”

_ “Dean, what the hell do you mean you have a stalker?!”  _ Sam’s voice was sharp and furious through the phone, and Dean sat back in his chair with a sigh, wincing absently as the change in position put pressure on his increasingly sore ass.

“Look, it's been a couple weird notes, nothing major, but because the last one was a bit nuttier, we called the cops. I'm fine, there's no sign of the guy, just that he doesn't like me bein’ with Cas.”

_ “That's another thing, why didn't you tell me before that Cas is a guy?”  _ Sam was hurt; Dean could practically see the puppy eyes, and he cringed.

“Three words, man. John fucking Winchester. I've been keepin’ quiet about bein’ bi since we were kids, Sammy. Hard habit to break.”

_ “What, you thought I woulda told him?! Besides, Dad's been dead for years, why wouldn't you tell me since then?”  _ Dean could see it, Sam was definitely using bitch-face number six at the moment. 

“Watch it, your face might freeze like that.” Dean smirked, kicking his feet up on his desk.

_ “And I'll still be better looking than you,” _ Sam laughed, and Dean knew his younger brother's wrath had been dodged for the moment. 

“Get a haircut, ya bum. You coming down on Saturday? I really do want you to meet Castiel, he's kinda a permanent fixture.”

_ “Moving a little fast there, aren’t you?” _

Dean glanced through the open door and caught Cas’s eye, and threw him a smile and a wink. “Grandma approves, so suck it. Old man liked him too.”

_ “He must be charming.” _ Dean rolled his eyes, still hearing the hesitation in Sam’s voice.

“Charmed the pants off me, alright.” Dean bit back a laugh as Sam gagged on the other end of the line.

They made plans for the weekend and Dean hung up just as Cas wandered in with the mail.

“Hello Dean. No surprises here, just the usual invoices and project-related paperwork.”

“Ugh, can’t I just have a nice relaxing death threat instead of the bills?” Dean teased, and Cas gave him a withering glance.

“Not if you want sex in the next week. You think you’re funny, don’t you, Dean?” Cas muttered.

Dean pursed his lips and grinned up at his lover.

“I think I’m adorable.”

***

The week passed in a blur, work piling on project after project and new clients came in a flood. Dean had to stay late several times, and got used to chatting with Benny, Cesar, and Jesse, the three security guards who worked the afternoon and night shifts. They checked in on him several times per shift, despite Cas also being with him most evenings. Saturday arrived and Dean went in, the influx of new clients wreaking havoc with his schedule and weekend plans. Cas accompanied him to file the new client paperwork and keep in communication with them regarding any early changes to their desired marketing strategies, and Dean bought them lunch on the company dime without a qualm. 

Dean had just ended a stressful call with a very wealthy client by the name of Bela Talbot when their lunch was delivered. She spoke with a posh British accent and though he’d tried foisting her off on Zar, she wouldn’t hear of it. She was demanding, exacting, and flirted constantly, until Dean rather loudly interrupted her with the information that he was meeting his fiancé for lunch, and he was going to be late.

“That won’t work, she sounds like the type to take that as a challenge.” Cas grinned as he handed over Dean’s burger and fries, and Dean groaned.

“I’m never getting outta here. Sam is spending the night and the guest room isn’t ready, even if we are going to the Roadhouse later. Fuck, today just sucks. This can’t get any worse.”

Cas gave him a look that was almost gentle, and walked around the side of his desk, dropping to his knees in front of Dean.

“Maybe I can make it better,” he rumbled in his husky, bedroom voice, and Dean groaned, leaning back in his chair and glancing across to the door. The open door.

“Babe, wait, the door!” he reminded, his eyes wide as Cas undid his zipper with his teeth and pulled him free.

“Fuck the door, it's Saturday. Almost no one is in other than Zar and Charlie. Quietly now, my pet,” he murmured, and proceeded to give him the blowjob of a lifetime. He drew back with a smug smile a short time later, wiping the back of his hand over his lips, and stood, bending to kiss Dean lightly. “Enjoy your burger,  _ sir _ .”

Cas sauntered out to the main office, and with a slow smile, picked up a sticky note from his desk and waved it. A moment later Dean’s phone pinged with a text from Charlie.

Charlie:  _ I never want to see that expression on your face again. explains his hair though. _

Dean:  _ Would you believe me if I said it was in reaction to a burger? _

Charlie:  _ No burger I’ve had slurps like that. _

Dean:  _ omg, that’s it, just kill me. _

Charlie:  _ your boy might object. _

Dean snorted, then reopened his email. “Cas!” he called, frowning at his inbox. “I’m forwarding you the Robinson/Sacks email, take a look please! And I want you to head out about three. Please don’t argue,” he asked softly as Cas appeared in the doorway with a thunderous look on his face.

“Why would you want me to leave early? Are you insane?! Correct me if I'm wrong, but you  _ do _ remember you still have a stalker, right?”

“No mail delivery on Saturdays, so I won’t be getting another note, and everyone has to be buzzed in. It’ll be fine, Cas, please. Could you head home and get the guest room ready, and then I’ll meet you at the Roadhouse at 6:30 or so?” He glanced again at his computer and sighed as the number of unread emails increased. “Maybe seven.”

Cas muttered as he turned back to his desk, pulling out his chair roughly and slamming the arms against the desk as he sat. Dean sighed, knowing his lover was simply worried, but the show of temper was… upsetting. He thought back to earlier that week when Cas had slapped him so unexpectedly. His mind was still hazy on the details, but he knew he’d liked it. 

This, however, was more like something of a tantrum, and Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

A little while later, Cas left the office without a word, and Dean stared after him, wondering what the hell was going on. Twenty minutes after that there was a tentative tap on his door frame. He glanced up to find Cas wearing a sheepish expression and holding a coffee. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” he apologized as he crossed the office and handed over the cup. “I’m worried about you, but still, my behaviour was awful. Are you certain? If I stay and help we could both be out of here by five, then we could get the room ready together and clean up, maybe wipe down the counters again after last night, just to be sure we got everything.” He gave Dean a teasing smile, and Dean blushed a little at the reminder, as though certain aching parts weren’t evidence of their own.

“Alright, we can do that. But that does mean we need to  _ work. _ This is your boss speaking,” Dean told him sternly, which was spoiled when Cas gave him a molten hot stare and licked his lips.

“Yes sir, Mr. Winchester.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered, only to catch Cas’s wink as he stepped back to his desk and sat.

*** 

At five o'clock Dean led Cas to the car, walking backwards through the parking lot as he teased his lover, suggesting all the things they could do to traumatize Sam while he visited.

Cas froze suddenly, a look of fury crossing his face like Dean had never seen. Dean tensed, turning slowly, the way one always saw in horror films, as though whatever it was might go away in the meantime. There, in black and white, or rather black and chrome, was another message, carved in jagged, pointed letters, crudely keyed into Baby’s hood. It was clear that each letter had been scratched in multiple times, and the words leapt out at him.

**I’M DONE WAITING.**

***

Officer Henrikson arrived within half an hour to take photos and their statements, during which time they'd already spoken to building security, who hadn't seen anything, and discovered that the cameras over the lot had been damaged the night before, precisely and without catching more than a vague shape, no hope of an accurate description. It appeared to be a Caucasian male, with light hair. Whether this was the same person who'd vandalized Baby and presumably sent the other notes, they had no way of knowing. 

An hour later they had exhausted their discussions with Officer Henrikson and his partner, and they were sent on their way. Dean was silent, his mind seething with anger and a horrible feeling of violation. Baby had been his since he was sixteen, but had been his safe haven for far longer. It had been his constant when his mother died, then been there when his dad was killed in the line of duty as a cop. Baby was his, and he thought maybe he'd rather have that awful message carved into his own skin than see her damaged like that. 

They drove to the Roadhouse and Dean parked her in front of one of the windows, white-knuckled and tense. Cas leaned over and took his hand, carefully prying it loose from the steering wheel. “Let's get you a drink, pet, and see if Sammy is here. And you'd best tell Ellen before she hears it from Sam when he gets here.”

Dean grumbled for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. “You don't get it, Cas. This car…”

“Is everything. I do understand, Dean.” Cas reached over and stroked Dean's shoulder, then hooked his chin with one finger, making him turn to look at him. “Come on. She's parked right out front, by a window so you can keep an eye on her, and this weekend you can show me how to buff out those scratches. I'll leave the painting to you, I know you'll need to make her perfect to be happy.”

They strode into the bar together, hand in hand, earning them a few looks from some of the rougher customers. Cas's stone-cold stare as he looked around the bar dissuaded anyone who might have caused trouble; he looked ready to smite someone and like he would enjoy it.

They grabbed a table by the window, where Dean could watch Baby, but Cas made sure he had the view of the hood, trying to save Dean the constant visual. Jo arrived a few minutes after they arrived with three beers, and parked herself next to Cas. “What's with the faces?” she asked, and Dean glared at her. 

After a moment he pointed out the window and saw Jo's eyes widen when she saw the damage, though the angle was awkward enough that she likely couldn't read the message. She stood and stormed out the door, and Dean saw her stand next to the car and take a few photos. Ellen sauntered over a minute later, and glanced out the window at Jo who was circling the car, looking for additional damage. 

“What is that girl doin’?” she asked, and Cas laid a soothing hand on Dean's where it was wrapped around his beer bottle.

“Takin’ photos, Ma, what the hell does it look like?” Dean snarked, and Cas squeezed his hand in warning, giving him a look for his rudeness. Ellen however needed no defending.

“Son, I understand you're having a bad time lately, but if you think you can come into my bar and act like that, you'll be scrubbin’ dishes for a week. Now, what happened? And when is Sam gettin’ here? He texted that he was comin’ to visit tonight.”

Cas squeezed Dean's hand again and Dean snorted, staring moodily out the window as he picked at the label on his beer. Ellen appropriated Jo's beer for a mouthful and looked at them expectantly. 

“Dean got another note this afternoon. Carved into the Impala's hood.” Ellen's face reflected her shock, and her stern features softened. She sat next to Dean, and looked at Cas. Dean watched from the corner of his eye as Cas showed her a photo of the message on his cell, and heard her sharp intake of breath as she tensed. 

“You called the police?” she asked, her voice flat and emotionless, and Dean turned to look at her, catching the fear in her eyes before she glanced away.

He took her hand in his and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Sure did, Ma. Woulda been here an hour and a half ago, but we had to stop at home and get the guest room ready for Sammy. As for where he is, he shoulda been here by now. Gimme a minute, I’m gonna call him.”

Dean leaned across the table and gave Cas a gentle kiss, hoping his gratitude for his lover’s quiet support came through. He made his way through the crowd to the bathroom hallway, and pulled out his phone. Dialing Sam, he stuck a finger in one ear to try to block some of the noise from the Saturday night crowd, and moved further down the hall, past the kitchen door.

Sam’s cell went to voicemail, and Dean waited impatiently for the beep. “Hey, Sammy, you’re a cop, what’s the point if you can’t answer your phone while driving? We’re at the Roadhouse, when’re you getting your ass here? Don’t keep us waiting, bitch, or all the beer--” Dean felt a sharp sting in the side of his neck, and turned, clapping a hand to the stinging pain. The hall continued to spin and he fought to focus on the man sneering before him.

“Hello, Dean.”

His phone clattered to the floor, the screen going dark as the pale blur of a man bent and pushed a button. Dean watched as the figure turned to him, his mind fogging a misty grey.


	14. Chapter 14

Cas chatted with Ellen and Jo for several minutes, then Ellen returned to the bar, waved over by Ash, who while never seeming overwhelmed, was definitely moving faster than Cas had seen previously. Jo kept him company, nursing her beer, her shift having ended at eight when they arrived. After a few minutes, Cas glanced at his phone, checking the time. Dean had been gone a while, and Cas couldn’t see down the hall. He glanced around the full bar, but there was no sign of Dean anywhere. Jo caught his agitation and looked about, then her fair skin went ashen.

“Bathroom maybe?” she suggested, hopeful, but her eyes betrayed her fear to Cas at a single glance.

Cas stood and headed for the hallway, moving swiftly through the crowd. One drunken man stumbled aggressively into his path and Cas simply slid around him like water, not even noticing the surprised look sent after him. 

The hall was empty. Cas quickly checked the mens’ room, finding only one older, bearded man at the sinks, and the stall door locked. “Dean?” he called, knocking, frowning at the grunted negative he received. The man at the sinks turned and looked at him, adjusting his trucker’s cap.

“You lookin’ for Dean Winchester?” he asked, and Cas felt his eyes narrow.

He stepped forward, scowling, and the older man straightened his shoulders, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Yes, why do you ask? I’m Cas.”

“Easy, princess, you mentioned Dean. M'name's Bobby. As for Dean, he ain’t in here, last I saw someone was helpin’ him into a car, I thought it was you. He was stumblin’, I just figgered he was drunk. But if you’re here, then we gotta problem. We gotta find Ash, pronto.”

“He’s behind the bar, why? And who’re you to ask?” Cas asked as they left the men’s room, his eyes scanning constantly. A glint of light from the floor caught his eyes and he stooped to pick up the item before his brain registered he was moving. He stared at Dean’s cell, and his anger grew.

Dean’s phone was locked, but thinking for a moment, Cas keyed in BABY, which was rejected. Frowning at his misstep, he tried again, 1967, and smirked when it opened to a photo of the two of them. The last contact was an outbound call to Sam, and as they walked into the main part of the bar and Bobby made for Ash, Dean’s phone rang with Sam’s contact popping up on the screen. 

“Hello?” Cas answered, moving back to the hallway and putting his back against a wall to watch both directions cautiously.

“Who is this?” came an angry, concerned voice, and Cas knew without a doubt he was speaking to Sam.

“Hello Sam, this is Castiel. I have Dean’s phone, but he’s gone. He called you. Didn’t you speak to him?” he asked, desperate for any clue to finding Dean.

“He got my voicemail. He cut off mid-sentence, and I thought I heard someone say ‘Hello Dean’ before the call ended. I was going to try to track the cell, but I would need cause and this isn’t enough. And since you’ve got the phone, there's no point. Smart, whoever took him.”

“I beg to differ. Whoever took him is very,  _ very  _ foolish.” Cas growled, and glanced up to see Ash waving to him, and followed him to an office where the scraggly-haired man started typing faster than Cas could follow. Ellen and Bobby were beside him. “Dean got another note, carved into Baby’s hood. All it said was ‘I’m done waiting’. The local PD are on it, and someone named Bobby saw someone helping him into a car. He figured it was me helping him, because Dean was stumbling like he was drunk, but he’d only had half a beer.”

“Bobby’s our uncle. I’ll send the voicemail to my department, see if I can get the voice isolated, but the reception in that bar sucks ass.”

Cas was listening with half an ear as Ash pulled up the security feed from that evening forwarding to the point when Dean and Cas came into the bar. He switched over to the hallway feed and the back door, and sped forward, his eyes flicking between the screens. Dean appeared in the hallway and Ash slowed the video down to normal as he made his call. Suddenly a man appeared behind him and pressed what looked like an Epi-pen to Dean’s neck, and Dean whirled, stumbling and then slumping against the other man. 

Dean’s phone hit the floor in the video, and the man bent and disconnected the call. As he straightened, he kept his face lowered, and Cas growled in frustration. There was something familiar about the way the man moved… Cas recognized a predator. But more than that, Cas had a sense he knew this man, though he hadn’t caught so much as a profile yet. 

The man walked Dean a few steps to the back door, and Ash enlarged the screen showing the door from outside. And just for a moment as the door opened, the man looked up.

Cas let out a vicious snarl before he realized he’d spoken.  _ “Alastair!  _ Sam, it’s another employee; I don’t know his last name so I can’t help you track him. Call your granddad, Alastair works in our building in the mail room, and he’s hit on Dean before.”

“Thanks Cas, stay put. I’ll send local PD to Alastair’s address as soon as I can, but I’ll need you there in case they have more questions. I’m already on my way but I’m at least forty-five minutes out of town.”

“Sorry, Sam. Not happening.” Cas hung up as he turned and ran from the office, ignoring Bobby and Ellen both, and headed for the Impala. He picked the lock in moments and in under a minute, had Baby hotwired and was driving back to the office, some instinct directing him. Along the way he wiped the phone, removing his finger prints for reasons of his own. 

Cas pulled his own cell, sending a quick text to his cousin. 

Cas:  _ Trouble coming. Going to take care of what’s mine.  _

A: _ need a hand, or bail money? _

Cas:  _ neither, stay out of it. _

He dropped his phone onto the passenger seat and pulled up in front of Sandover. The lights were on in multiple offices as well as the lobby, as at barely nine o'clock, many were still working. He let himself in with his keycard, but there was no one at security to greet him. Cas glanced about looking for clues, and headed for his and Dean’s office, taking the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. Their offices were empty, as he discovered after using his key to unlock Dean’s door. He headed down the hall, his movements quick and controlled as he found Charlie at her desk.

“Have you seen Dean, or Alastair?” he demanded, and Charlie jumped, looking up at him, wide-eyed.

She blinked for a moment, taking in his expression, and blanched. “I haven’t seen either. Give me a minute though, I’ll see if their passcards have been used in the building tonight.”

“Why would you have access for that?” Cas asked, though he had a suspicion. One that was confirmed when she glanced at him side-eyed and muttered a response.

“What, you don’t?” She typed quickly, and he mused that she could give Ash a run for his money, in more ways than one. “Dean’s key fob was used to enter the building about forty-five minutes ago. What the hell is going on? Do I call the cops?”

“Not yet, if it was a diversion I don’t want them pulled away from hunting elsewhere. I need to find security though. Who is on tonight?

“Benny and Jesse.” She stood, following him down the hall to the stairs and they ran down the stairs to the main floor, where the mail room door was ajar across the hall. Stepping in, Cas stopped cold, preventing Charlie from entering or looking past him.

“Charlie, go to the front desk, call the police.” Cas spoke quickly, his voice clipped and cold. “Do not step into this room, for the sake of pleasant dreams. There’s nothing you can do for them. Tell the police that there are two dead security guards, and then get out of the building and wait in your car in case Alastair comes out. He’s incredibly dangerous. I’ll find Dean.”

“How can you be sure they’re dead?” she demanded, shoving against his shoulder. She had guts, he had to give her that. Making a decision, he allowed her to push past, though she kept glaring at him for a moment before turning to the room. “We have to check on--oh my god…” Her voice went quiet and he caught her as she swayed. She turned into his shoulder, shuddering for a moment, then pulled away, her eyes haunted but dry after seeing two men with their throats slit. Her pale face and wide eyes caught his attention, and he shook her shoulders slightly until she snapped her eyes to him.

“Go, Charlie. Call the police.”

Charlie stumbled down the hall and turned the corner for the main lobby, and he heard the distinctive sound of someone vomiting as he made for the stairs again.

Following his instincts, he took the stairs down to the basement, which was a warren of storage and maintenance rooms. He pulled a blade from his sleeve where he’d hidden it after retrieving it from his desk, and twirled it in his palm to settle the weight. 

Cas opened the first door, finding nothing. He moved silently down the hall, and checked the next door by tilting his head against it. Hearing a sound within, he kicked the door open.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean’s mind was fuzzy, his body burning with an unpleasant heat and an itch begging to be scratched. He moaned, trying unsuccessfully to palm himself, and discovered his wrists were bound. As he tried to fight to consciousness, he heard a nasal, rasping chuckle. Normally that voice would have killed his boner, he thought vaguely, but the burning in his blood wouldn’t go away, and he tried again to reach for his cock, only to be stalled again by the unfamiliar cold of handcuffs chaining him to a table.

An unfamiliar lethargy infused his limbs, even as he tried to fight for any pressure against his aching cock.  _ Drugged _ … he thought to himself, that strange lassitude keeping him from fighting, even as he burned. A chill ran over his skin, and he realized he was naked. He shouldn’t be naked, but he couldn’t quite remember why. He felt detached from his own skin, and yet the desperate need suffusing his body wouldn’t go away. A hand stroked his cock and he cried out softly, his body bucking into the unfamiliar touch. He floated, even as his ears registered his own cries until his mouth was filled with a cock. He sucked desperately, demanding his own pleasure. 

_ Dreaming…? Cas…  _ he whimpered as precome flooded his mouth, and then he was empty again, panting and sweating, and shaking his head as a small pill was placed in his mouth.

“Swallow it, Dean. Be a good boy!” he was ordered harshly, and his mind seized on the last words.  _ Good boy… good boy for Cas. _

“Yes, Master,” he slurred, swallowing the pill dry. 

Time passed as he was toyed with, each touch and stroke winding him tighter, his heart pounding and his breathing slow and laboured, until the harsh, nasal voice came again. “I told you I’d save you from him. Now you’re mine, Dean. Mine to do what I want. And now you’re going to take my dick and like it.” A hard pressure breached him with no lube, and Dean tried to scream, but there was a hand over his mouth and he couldn’t get enough air as he tried to squirm away, but then a hand was stroking his cock and he forgot about escaping, only desperate for his release, the foreign burning in his blood winding him tighter and higher until it was a euphoria he’d felt only when Cas choked him.

“Cas?” he mumbled, and there was a snarl of rage before he was struck with a closed fist, his head rocking back even as someone fucked into him, hard and fast, the sound of panting and the slap of flesh against flesh filling the room.  _ Where am I? Who…?  _ “Cas!”

“You’re going to forget that name ever existed, Dean!” A snarling visage with sharp teeth and a gaping maw came into his line of sight, and he tried again to scream in horror, only to discover he was being choked, couldn’t breathe,  _ can’t breathe, can’t…  _

His throat was released and the hand was again striping his cock, twisting at the head as his ass was abused, but the monster raping him _ \--I don’t want this! Cas! No! Who...?-- _ tilted his hips and pleasure zinged through him. Try as he might, he couldn’t fight the cuffs, the hands holding him, the drugs, and his body’s betrayal, and he came hard, spraying across his stomach with a sob. Worse yet were the grunting cries of his attacker, pistoning into his body until the man froze, grinding into him hard, and a flood of warmth filled Dean and trickled down his ass as the man pulled loose, smearing his cock over Dean’s face and lips. 

“Taste it Dean. Lick my cock like the little slut you are, coated in my come and your blood, you filthy bitch!” The nasal voice was talking again and Dean floated, somewhere far away, watching from a corner of his mind far from the horror.

_ I know you… _ his mind was working, trying to place his attacker, but the drugs forced upon him were fogging his ability to reason. He turned his head away and was rewarded for his defiance with another strike to his jaw, then another, until his attacker was beating him viciously. He hovered on the verge of insensibility and couldn’t fight when a hard cock was forced between his lips, fucking into his throat. He tasted bitter spunk and his own musk, and over it all the copper tang of blood. His ass throbbed and he cringed at the pain, but his lip and cheek ached as well, and more blood seeped into his mouth, threatening to choke him even when the cock was withdrawn. He turned his head, coughing and gagging, and whimpered as his pucker was breached again, sobbing until a hand closed around his throat and squeezed. Again his body betrayed him, and he felt his cock stiffening once more.

“You will say  _ my  _ name, you greedy whore, not that bastard who stole you from me. Say my name!” The pinched, rasping voice was full of anger, and Dean pleaded with it to stop, which earned him a punch to the ribs that made him curl onto his side. He was unceremoniously flipped onto his stomach and his hips lined up with the edge of the table he lay on--  _ conference table? no, this is the old one, it was replaced two months ago… _ \--and the assault continued.

His mind was filled with a grey fog, twisting with blood red and black at the edges as he fought to breathe, fought to slow his heart rate, fought the despair filling him. His hips were seized in an iron grip, and the cock pounding into him found his prostate again, and he wailed as pleasure flooded him, even as he fought to move his limbs. His breathing grew ragged, and a punched out cry left him as he shook through a dry orgasm, his traitorous body pulling his assailant over the edge.

“You are delicious, boy, and you will learn to obey me. You’ll learn to love this, and when I’m done with you, you’ll never spread your legs for anyone but me again.”

The cock in his ass withdrew, and there was a sharp snap of latex, then a gloved hand was shoving roughly against his abused hole. It forced its way into him, even as the other hand clenched over his mouth, muffling his screams of pain. All he could do with the drugs overriding his muscle control was lay there and take it, but his mind rebelled, trying to fight through the fog in his brain to free himself. He screamed again as his hole stretched over a dry fist, which punched into him deeper and harder than anything he’d felt.

Tears of pain and humiliation ran down his cheeks, and he found himself panicking, fighting for air as his vision slowly went black.

***

Cas took in the scene before him, Dean naked, bleeding and battered, and unconscious on a conference table. Alistair was staring at him in venomous hatred, and Cas snarled in horrified dismay at the wine bottle Alastair was pulling from Dean’s stretched and bleeding hole. Alastair smashed the bottle against the table as Cas stalked toward him. He stabbed at Cas in a wild swing, and Cas dodged easily, his eyes narrowed as he stalked his prey. Alastair swung again, and Cas casually deflected the blow with his forearm, gaining a dripping gash that he more or less ignored. A sneer crossed Alastair’s narrow features, his pale blue eyes full of spite.

“Hello Castiel. Care to know how many times he came for me, how many ways I used him? Want to fuck him while he’s bleeding,  _ Cas,  _ take him while he’s out cold? All you have to do is get past me.”

Cas snarled at his opponent, and swung his blade, striking for the other man’s chest. Alastair blocked with the jagged edges of the bottle and deflected his blade away, twisting his wrist and sending Cas’s weapon flying. He gave a superior sneer, but his eyes widened as Cas simply stepped closer, neither feeling nor showing fear at being weaponless.

Cas flicked a glance at Dean, who lay battered and still, other than the barely noticeable lift of his chest. Alastair had done this, taken Dean from him, possibly killed him, for who knew if Dean would live. No, this was unacceptable. A feral smile slid across Cas’s features, and he watched the thin man before him blanch. 

“You’ll pay for taking him from me,” he snarled, and feinted left. Alastair fell for it, and Cas dove right and kicked out at his knee, bringing him down screaming, Cas grabbed for anything at hand, and coming up empty, he scurried closer and deftly slammed his elbow against Alastair’s nose, breaking it with a satisfying crunch. The man swung desperately, and caught Cas in the side with the broken bottle, pulling a grunt of pain from him. His triumph was short-lived however, as Cas drove his palm upward against his broken nose, driving the shattered cartilage into his brain, killing him instantly.

Cas staggered to his feet and, bleeding and in pain, found his knife, tucking it up his sleeve again. Last thing he needed was the cops to find that. Limping, he made his way to Dean’s side. Finding the keys to the cuffs and quickly undoing them, he turned Dean onto his back. He was right, Dean was still breathing, though far too slowly.

Cas sighed, staring down at the wreck of a man sadly. He bent and kissed him softly on the forehead, and whispered softly.

“Goodbye, pet.”

He closed his fingers over Dean’s nostrils, and sealed his lips over Dean’s mouth.


	16. Chapter 16

Sam found a young woman named Charlie at the door to Sanderson Bridge & Iron, her eyes wide and shocked, her face pale under a mass of brilliant red hair. 

“You have to help him!” she shouted, tugging him desperately towards the stairs. “They’re dead, Benny and Jesse are dead, and he went to find Dean and Alastair, he’s been gone to the basement for ten minutes, I can’t go down there, please, you have to save them!” She burst into tears, and Sam spared a moment to throw his jacket around her shoulders, warding off the chill of shock until more help arrived. Distant sirens told him it wouldn’t be long.

He took the stairs two at a time, his gun ready, his heart pounding. Luckily Cas had kept Dean’s phone and he’d been able to have Ash track it. Sam had no idea who Benny and Jesse were, though the name Benny at least sounded vaguely familiar. Dean must have mentioned him.

He cleared the first room quickly, and made for the second, where he could hear desperate pleading.

“You can’t do this,  _ please _ , love, don’t leave me!” Sam burst through the damaged door and found a scene of horror. A man lay bloodied and still on the floor, no sign of life. He quickly bent and checked his pulse, even as his eyes locked onto the scene on the table.  _ No pulse, check,  _ he noted absently, standing and numbly walking closer to the man sobbing over the body.

“Cas?” he asked roughly, trying to ignore the stinging in his eyes. “Is he…?”

“I tried. But Alastair was cutting off his air when I got here, he said if he couldn’t have him no one would. If he gave him drugs, he might have-- maybe he.. Oh _ God, Dean!”  _ The bleeding man slumped against the table, wavering, and Sam caught his arm. “Alastair got me with a broken bottle, but I remembered a self-defense class I took and broke his nose. Did… did I kill him?” he asked, blanching as he looked over at the man who’d killed Dean. Sam laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, meeting the man's tear-streaked face with a look of compassion, locking away his own grief for the moment.

“You did what you had to. I’m sorry, I need you to step back. Help should be here any second, but I need you to sit and not touch anything else.”

Cas nodded, sniffling. "But what Alastair did… it was Dean who paid the price," he said sadly, touching a trembling hand to his lips.


	17. Epilogue

The late spring sun shone down, the wind ruffling Cas’s hair and sending his trenchcoat rippling around him. He stared at the tombstone before him, the starkly carved letters and dates standing out in sharp relief. He was reminded of the graves of his wife Amelia, and his daughter Claire, how their deaths had broken him. Back before he’d gotten a taste for it, before he’d found others like him and they began to choose their toys.

He heard footsteps approaching, and knew that his compatriots had found him. 

"Come on. It's time to go, Clarence," the brunette said condescendingly, and he whirled on her threateningly. 

"I did what I had to, but don’t think I'm not grieving. He really was perfect for me."   
  
"Listen--" his cousin, whom Dean had known as Anna, cut in.   
  
"No, Abby, you listen!" The redhead cast her eyes around, making sure no one was close enough to hear. “He was an untrained submissive, and given time I could have made him do anything, then that Alastair fucking tainted him, spoiled him. Like I'd touch him again after that.” 

Catching a smirk on his friend's face, Cas turned and unceremoniously slapped her.

“Keep your opinions to yourself, Ruby. And I can't leave yet. It would be too obvious with his brother in homicide.”

Abigail Dawn, hunted for the murder of her own plaything, frowned at him. “You couldn't play up the grieving widower crap? C'mon, this city is played out for us. Time to pick a new name and a new place.”

Ruby smirked, her lithe form relaxed as she sat on the gravestone. “It's too bad, I liked being Meg. So, what'll it be? Clarence? Emmanuel? Jimmy again, like when we met?”

He gave her a withering stare, but she simply smirked in response. “I'll have to think about it.” 

“So, tell me about Dean’s brother,” Ruby asked, her dark eyes shining with avarice.

Cas stroked a gentle hand down her cheek and she leaned into it. She’d been his favourite sub since he took her from a halfway house for girls, not long after she’d killed another, a twisted thing named Lilith. But she was broken, and he wanted a new toy.

He would miss Dean, but it changed nothing. He’d had to die. As for Sam, well, that would be simply delightful, and he was mourning and susceptible.

“Tell you what, pet. Let’s call you Ruby again for now. Your turn for the hunt.”

“Cas, I want my turn,” the redhead complained, and he glared at her. 

“You broke your toy and left him to be found with no one else to take the fall, and now the police want to speak to you, Miss  _ Abigail Dawn _ . Better for you to keep quiet for now and remain Anna.”

“If we’re setting our sights on Sam, will you be Cas then for a while longer?” Ruby asked, and he mused over the matter thoughtfully. 

  
“I might as well. If we’re staying here, I bet I could have fun with that impossible Brit, Balthazar. But when we  _ do _ leave…” He paused as he tapped a finger against his lips, then smirked, his lips curving sideways in cruel amusement. “Why not Lucifer? I suppose you can call me Luke.”


End file.
